Westcott Prepatory Academy
by adder574
Summary: Dean is diagnosed with an illness that requires long term care. This leads to a time when the Winchesters were a family and Sam gets to experience a taste of normal, or as normal as things can be for the Winchesters. Longer summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

Westcott Prepatory Academy

Disclaimer: Don't own them, not making any profit.

Once again I would like to thank my beta reader, the awesome Soar, who had generously agreed to continue putting up with me and beta this story for me. Once again, any left over mistakes are completely my own.

Summary: Dean is diagnosed with an illness that requires long term care. In order to pay for Dean's treatment, John takes a job working in maintenance at a private school to get medical benefits and during this time, the Winchesters are a family and Sam gets to experience a taste of normal. Dean is 16 and Sam is 12

A/N: Shadows is one of my favourite episodes. In it, Dean says that he wants him, Sam and John to be a family again. Sam wanted normal and I have always wondered if somewhere along the way, he got to experience that taste of normal. So taking these two things and combining them gave me the idea for this story. I am adding Dean's illness because I figured it would take something pretty substantial to make John take a nine to five job.

If anyone is still reading here is chapter one.

_Tick, tock, tick, tock_

Sixteen year old Dean Winchester stared at the clock in his 10th grade English class, listening to his teacher drone on and on about some poet. Nothing she said was making sense to the young hunter. He suspected that it had something to do with the fact that he was out sick all last week, and English was his worst subject anyway.

If Dean admitted it to himself, he still wasn't feeling up to par. He could have used another day at home, but he knew that if he had stayed home much longer, then his father might not let him go on the hunt this weekend.

They were hunting a werewolf that had been responsible for several deaths in the area. It had taken awhile to figure out the pattern the werewolf had been using to pick it's victims. Dean was still filled with pride at the thought of the rare praise his dad had given him when he found the link that connected all the victims together. They now had a handle on where to find the creature, luckily, just in time for the full moon this weekend.

There was no way Dean wanted to miss this hunt because his father's friend, Joshua Holland was going to accompany them.

Joshua Holland's reputation as a hunter was legendary, especially when it came to werewolves and Dean knew that he would gain invaluable experience from hunting with him. Learning to hunt these creatures with Josh was like getting batting lesson from Ted Williams. There was another reason for him to get back on his feet though, Joshua was also a medical doctor and if Dean was under the weather, then Joshua would want to give him a check up and Dean couldn't think of anything he wanted less.

He shifted in his seat and tried to pay attention to what his teacher was saying. School would be out for the summer in about a month and exams were coming up. His dad only insisted that he pass and his English grade was barely above that. He was going to have to do well if he wanted to make sure that he didn't fail the class. He glanced toward the clock again and cursed silently. He swore that the damn thing was moving backwards. He just wanted this class over with. English was his last subject of the day and he was really worn out. Plus, he really needed to use the washroom, but he had already been once this class and he knew that his teacher wouldn't let him go again. He just wanted to go home. He was glad his father didn't have any training drills planned for that evening because he honestly didn't know if he would be able to make it through.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the bell rang, signalling the end of class.

"Okay class, that's it for today," Ms. Reynolds said. "We'll pick up this discussion tomorrow and don't forget that your essays on James Joyce are due by this Friday."

Dean grabbed his books and hightailed it for the door. He had just about reached it when he heard his name being called.

"Mr. Winchester, can I see you for a moment please?" asked Ms. Reynolds.

Dean was seriously tempted to pretend he didn't hear his teacher and keep going but he sighed and turned to face the classroom. He hoped this would be quick. He really needed to use the washroom, plus he knew that Sammy was waiting for him and Dean didn't like to keep him waiting.

"Yes, Ms Reynolds," Dean said as he walked back to the teacher's desk.

"Feeling better I see," Ms. Reynolds said sincerely.

"Yes, ma'am, thank you," Dean replied.

"Did you get your assignments last week? I gave them to your brother," she asked him.

Dean had received them but he hadn't done any of them, in fact in hadn't even looked at them.

"I never had a chance," Dean replied honestly. He'd had the flu and had hardly left his room all week.

"I'll give you until the end of this week to catch up and I'll give you an extension until Monday on your essay," Ms. Reynolds said kindly. "I know it's hard to miss a week, but you really need to make sure you complete your work. I don't want to see you fail."

"I will, Ms. Reynolds. Thanks for the extension."

"You're welcome. Please feel free to come see me if you need help," Dean's teacher offered genuinely.

"I will, thanks," Dean said, even though he had no intentions of ever doing so.

Dean left the classroom and bolted for the washroom. On his way out of school, he stopped by the vending machine and got a soda. He was thirsty.

Dean walked out the front doors and started toward the parking lot. His father had given him the car for the day and Dean gazed adoringly at the shiny, black beast. He loved this car.

"Hey, Dean," he heard a voice call from behind him.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean said as he turned and acknowledged his brother. "How was school?"

Sam grinned. "Great. I got a hundred on my English test and a 97 on my history test. Both were the highest marks in the class," Sam boasted.

"That's great, Sammy," Dean said proudly. "Do you know anything about James Joyce?"

"Yeah, he was a great writer, considered one of the founding fathers of the modern novel and wrote great stories like Finnegan's Wake and Ulysses," Sam said enthusiastically then he narrowed his eyes and look suspiciously at his older brother. "Why?"

"I'll give you ten bucks if you write my essay for me," Dean said.

"Cheapskate," Sam said.

"Okay, twenty," Dean countered.

"No way, Dean, I'm not doing your homework for you. Dad would kill us if he found out."

"How would he find out, Sammy?"

"He's dad," Sam said simply.

Dean sighed, he knew Sam was right. He had never been able to pull a fast one on his father. "You can't blame a guy for trying."

"When's Joshua getting here?" Sam asked.

"Thursday. He should be here for dinner. He's staying until Monday. I can't wait to go hunting with him this weekend," Dean said excitedly.

It was Sam's turn to sigh.

"What is it, Sammy?" Dean inquired.

"Do you think dad will let me skip the hunt this weekend? There's a soccer game after school on Friday that I want to watch, and Saturday I was invited to Bill's birthday. They're going to the movies and then out to the beach. It's going to be a blast."

"You want to skip the hunt? Sammy, come on, this is Josh, it's like..."

"Getting batting tips from Ted Williams," Sam interrupted Dean. "I know, you said it about a thousand times already. Will you talk to dad for me, Dean? I really want to go."

Dean ran his hand through his short, spiked hair in frustration. He was feeling more tired and worn out by the hour and getting into it with his dad was the last thing he wanted to do, but he could never say no to Sammy.

"I'll ask him, Sammy, but you know it won't do any good. It's just going to get him mad," Dean said trying to reason with his brother.

Sam pouted and crossed his arms, feeling his own frustration growing. "Please, Dean, just for once I want to do something..."

"Normal," Dean finished for him. "You said that a thousand times too, Sam. You know that..."

"I knew you'd side with him," Sam growled before Dean could finish.

"Sammy, I'm not on anyone's side. I'll talk to dad for you, but don't get your hopes up, you know he's going to say no," Dean said.

A smile lit up Sam's face. "Thanks Dean."

Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of the run down apartment building that they were currently staying in. He made sure that the car was locked and entered the building behind Sam. Dean wished that there was an elevator because the thought of climbing three flights of stairs was, at this point, more than he thought he could handle.

_Suck it up, Winchester, Dean told himself._ He took a deep breath and began the long, slow climb toward apartment 3F. He sighed in relief when he found himself in front of their apartment door. He had never been so glad to see the place. He really wanted to lie down, but his dad was getting ready for the hunt and when John wasn't there, it was his responsibility to get dinner on the table. Then, he had promised to talk to his dad for Sam. It had been a long day and it didn't seem like it was about to end anytime soon.

The soda he had drunk earlier had done did little to quench his thirst, so he went straight to the fridge and poured himself a big glass of water. He decided that he didn't feel like cooking, so he raided his secret stash of money he had earned from doing other kids math homework, and placed an order for pizza. Luckily, his dad came home in a good mood. He had gotten the final piece of information they needed for the hunt. Now all they needed was the full moon.

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Later that evening, after dinner was eaten and the kitchen cleaned up, Dean had approached his father with Sammy's request. To say that it hadn't gone well was an understatement. John wouldn't hear of his youngest bailing on the hunt, especially with Joshua agreeing to help them out. Sam stormed out of the living room, went to the room he and Dean shared and slammed the door, refusing to come out for the rest of the evening.

This put John in a foul mood. He grabbed the impala's keys and headed out the door, telling Dean that he would be back soon and to watch out for Sam.

Dean threw up his hands in frustration, he knew his father was headed to the local watering hole. "Terrific," he mumbled to himself.

Not having anything better to do, Dean grabbed his backpack and decided to get started on his homework. It was really the last thing that he felt like doing though. He had a headache and he was tired. He just wanted to lie down, but he knew that he needed to give Sam a chance to cool off. Dean got up and went to fridge and got himself a drink and a snack. It seemed like he was always hungry these days.

_Must be trying to catch up from__when I couldn't eat last week, he thought._

Dean pulled his English book toward him and tried to concentrate on the poem the teacher wanted them to read, but nothing was making sense. He was having a really hard time focusing his thoughts, they kept drifting back to his father and brother. With a sigh of frustration, he gave up on English for the night and grabbed his math book, it was something that came easy to him and with his current mood, he did not feel up to anything strenuous.

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John returned a couple of hours later. He was frustrated over the behaviour of his youngest son these days. It seemed like ever since Sam had turned 12, he questioned everything. It was something that John was trying to drill out of him. If they were on a hunt, it was essential to follow orders.

John let himself into the apartment and went to the fridge for a beer. He was surprised when he found his eldest son hunched over the kitchen table with his school books in front of him, sound asleep.

John glanced at his son with a look of concern. That flu had hit Dean hard last week and John knew that despite his best efforts to hide it, Dean still wasn't fully recovered. He knew that Dean really wanted to accompany him and Joshua on the hunt and John hoped he would be feeling up to it. Although he would never show it, John knew that Dean would be extremely upset if John had to order him to stay home, but it was as dangerous to have someone who wasn't 100, as it was to have someone who didn't follow orders.

"Dean. Hey son, you with me?" John said softly as he gave Dean a gentle shake. He didn't want to startle the boy.

"What?" Dean asked somewhat disoriented as he stirred from his slumber. "What time is it?"

"It's about 9:30," John answered.

"That's all?" Dean asked with surprise.

"Yeah," John said gently. "You feeling okay, kiddo?"

"Fine," Dean lied.

"Come on, son, I think a good nights sleep is just what you need," John replied as he exerted some gentle pressure and helped Dean to stand. Dean was immediately hit with a wave of dizziness and if his dad hadn't been holding him, there was a good chance that he would have fallen.

"Easy, Dean. Just give it a minute," John instructed. "Take some deep breaths."

Dean did as ordered until he didn't feel like he was going to keel over any more.

"I'm good, dad. I just got up too quickly," Dean said as he tried to explain away the incident.

"Still, I think you should get an early night," John suggested with concern.

"But what about my homework?" Dean asked with a nod toward his books. He really couldn't afford to fall behind any further.

"I'll look at it with you tomorrow, alright? There's nothing more we can do about the hunt until the full moon. Get some rest," John offered.

Dean decided to take his father up on his offer, but first he needed to get a drink. He finished a glass of water, but it still didn't seem to take the edge of his thirst. He went to the washroom and then said goodnight to his dad and Sammy.

Sam was just as concerned about Dean as John was. To him, Dean was invincible, his superhero, and it made Sam nervous when Dean appeared vulnerable. Sam watched as Dean settled himself in bed. He wanted to ask Dean how he was feeling, but he knew it would do no good, Dean would simply tell him he was fine. He decided to go and ask his dad instead, even though Sam really didn't want to see him, his concern for his brother overrode his anger.

He found his father in front of the TV, watching some old movie.

"Dad," Sam greeted his father tentatively.

"Hey, Sam, what's up?" John replied. He really hoped that Sam wasn't about to start anything.

"How come Dean's going to bed so early. Is he sick again?" Sam asked in a worried tone.

"I hope not, Sammy," John said. "I think he's still recovering from last week."

"Don't you think you ought to take him to the doctor? I mean, it's been over a week now," Sam reasoned.

"It's just the flu, Sammy," John explained. "He'll be fine. Besides, you know how Dean feels about doctors." Sam looked like he was about to protest so John continued. "Joshua will he here in a couple of days, I plan to ask him if he'll have a look at Dean. Okay?"

"I guess," Sam said half heartedly.

"Sammy, I promise if Dean seems like he's getting worse, I'll drag his rear end to the doctor, kicking and screaming if I have to okay?" John said.

"Okay dad, thanks. I just hate it..."

John finished the thought for him. "When's Dean not feeling well. Me too, kiddo. He'll be fine, though. I mean he's..."

"Dean," Sam finished the sentence for him. "Okay. I'm going to go finish my homework. 'Night dad," Sam said.

"Night, Sammy."

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The next couple of days passed quickly. Dean, Sam and John discussed hunt strategies and John did manage to help Dean with his homework. With his dad's help, he was managing to catch up. Unfortunately, Dean didn't start to feel better. In fact, he started feeling worse. He had a few more dizzy spells and his energy levels seemed to decrease as well. The only thing, John noted, that wasn't affected was Dean's appetite. It seemed like nothing could fill him these days. It seemed like every time John turned around, Dean was getting something to eat or drink, and if he wasn't at the fridge, he was in the bathroom.

Yet, Dean still wouldn't admit he was still sick. He didn't want to miss the hunt, so every morning he dragged himself out of bed and off to school and through his evening chores. He was glad that Joshua was arriving the next day because Dean hoped it would take his dad's focus off him.

That was before he went to bed. That Wednesday night, the most awful, humiliating thing happened to him.

He went to bed early that night as well. He woke up having to use the washroom, again. He was about to get out of bed when his leg brushed against a big wet spot beneath him. Dean froze instantly. _There's no way, I couldn't have, Dean thought. _He hesitated, took a deep breath and lifted the covers. There was no denying the evidence, he had wet the bed.

Dean's breathing increased and he looked toward Sam as if he thought his brother might have heard. Sam was still sound asleep though. Dean sighed in relief, but he felt humiliated. He wasn't sure what to do. There was no way anyone could ever find out about this. Dean glanced at his bed side clock. It read 12:08 am. There was a possiblilty that his dad could be in bed. He slipped silently out of bed and grabbed a different pair of PJ bottoms and changed quickly. He prayed to a God that he wasn't sure he believed in, that Sam wouldn't wake up and that his dad was asleep. He walked stealthily out of his room, went to the washroom so this wouldn't happen again and then he made his way to the closet where he knew the one set of spare sheets they owned, were are kept. Luck was not on is his side, however, no sooner had he grabbed the sheets when his father appeared.

John had been in the living room watching TV. He couldn't sleep, he was trying to think of away to explain to Dean that he wasn't going hunting that weekend. He hated to have to deny this to his eldest, because Dean never asked for anything and John knew just how much Dean was looking forward to it, but Dean was still ill and it was just too dangerous.

John heard the toilet flush and he knew that Dean was awake. John decided it was now or never and he got up to go talk to the young hunter. He walked down the hall and he was more than shocked when he saw his son standing with a fresh set of sheets in his hand, he didn't fail to notice that Dean had changed his PJ's as well and John thought back to the four glasses of soda Dean had drunk that evening. It didn't take him long to figure out what had happened. He was all set to scold his eldest, but when he looked at him, the reprimand died on his lips before it even began.

Dean looked miserable. He had dark circles under his eyes and he looked pale. Because Dean slept without a shirt on, John could see that he had lost weight as well. That was what scared John the most because he had seen just how much Dean had been eating.

As soon as Dean saw his dad, he knew that he was busted. Immediately, his shoulders slumped and his eyes never left the floor. He wished the floor would just open up and swallow him whole, then he wouldn't have to deal with the lecture that he knew he was sure to get. He couldn't have been more surprised at what his father did next though.

John put his arm around Dean's shoulders and pulled his first born into a light hug.

"It's okay, buddy," John gently reassured the boy. "It can happen to anyone."

Dean just buried his head into his father's chest, much like he had when he was younger. He was so embarrassed. John reached out with his other arm and cupped Dean's face so that he had to look his father in the face.

"It's okay, Dean," John repeated. "It really can happen to anyone. It did to me," John admitted and Dean looked at his father in shock. "It happened the day before I got shipped to 'Nam, in front of a whole barracks full of other marines. Just remember that as bad as things seem, they can be a whole lot worse."

Dean didn't say anything. He just gave his dad a small, grateful smile.

"You're really feeling miserable aren't you?" John asked.

Dean was tempted to deny it, but he knew he couldn't hide it any more. "Yes," he said so quietly that John almost missed it.

"Come on, let's get you back to bed," John said gently.

"But…" Dean started.

"I'll take care of it. I'll put you in my room," John said.

"Sam..." Dean protested weakly.

"I'll tell him that I thought you might be contagious. Don't worry, Dean, I'll make sure he doesn't find out."

"Thanks, dad," Dean said gratefully.

John actually walked Dean into his room and tucked him into bed for the first time since Dean was five.

"What about the..?" Dean started to ask.

"Don't worry about the hunt right now, you just concentrate on getting better. Good night, Dean. We'll talk in the morning," John said firmly.

Dean was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

John was extremely glad that Joshua was arriving the next day. The first thing John was going to ask his friend was to give Dean a check up.

True to his word, John took care of things in Dean's room and the next day, when Sam woke up, he had no clue as to what had happened the night before. Sam noticed Dean's bed was empty, which surprised him because Dean was never one to get up early. Sam rose, took a shower and headed into the kitchen for some breakfast.

"Morning dad," Sam greeted his father. He looked around the empty kitchen. "Where's Dean?" He added.

"Asleep," John replied and before Sam could say anything else he added. "I put him in my room. I don't want you catching anything if he's contagious."

"He's sick again?" Sam asked with growing concern.

"Yes," John admitted, also with concern. "I'm keeping him home today."

"You're taking him to the doctor right? Don't forget you promised."

"I know, Sam. Joshua will be here in a few hours. I'll get him to give your brother a check up."

"Promise, dad."

"I promise, Sammy. Finish your breakfast and I'll give you a lift to school."

Shortly after, Dean awoke. He looked around the room and it took a moment for him to get his bearings. He was trying to remember why he was in his dad's room, then the awful event of the previous night came rushing back. He wanted to bury himself in the covers and never show his face again, but as fate would have it, he really needed to use the washroom, again.

He pushed the covers aside and got up. Once again, he had to stop as he was struck with dizziness and the whole room started spinning. He stopped and took some deep breaths and was able to get himself under control. He carried on to the bathroom and took care of business, then he noticed the time. He had overslept. He went to the kitchen to get some breakfast because he was starving. Upon entering the room, he found a note from his father.

_Dean, I took Sam to school. I decided to let you sleep. I'll get your assignments__from your teachers. Go back and lie down. That's an order._

_Dad._

Dean decided to go lie on the couch so he could at least watch TV. After a moments thought, he also grabbed the water jug so he wouldn't have to keep getting up. He curled up on the couch, covered himself with a blanket and wished he would start feeling better.

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Joshua Holland drove down the street that led to the apartment building where the Winchesters were currently residing. It had been awhile since he had seen his old friend, John. Joshua had been scheduled to speak at a conference that was nearby, but when he had found out how close he was to where the Winchesters were living, he immediately called John and suggested they get together. When he found out that they were tracking a werewolf, he immediately offered his assistance. Werewolves were his area of expertise. John, of course, accepted without hesitation.

Joshua was also looking forward to seeing the boys. He couldn't wait to hear about what Sam was learning in school and he wanted to hear all about how Junior had managed to find the connection between the victims.

It wasn't long before he reached the building and he made his way to the apartment. He knocked on the door.

"Joshua, it's good to see you," John greeted his friend with an enthusiastic hand shake, holding the door open in welcome.

"Great to see you too, John. You're looking well," Joshua said returning the greeting.

John invited the older hunter inside. John took Joshua's bag and put it in his own room. He offered his friend a beer, which Joshua happily accepted.

Dean, who had been sleeping on the couch, heard Joshua enter the apartment. Drawing on his limited energy reserves, he pushed himself to a standing position and made his way to the kitchen.

"Hey, Josh," Dean greeted. "How's it going?"

Joshua was surprised to see Dean, he had thought the boy would have been in school, but he was still pleased to see him. "It's going fine, Junior," Josh said as he rose to give the boy a hug, then both said in unison.

"Don't call me Josh."

"Don't call me Junior."

John grinned as he watched the scene play out. This was something that had been going on since they had first met. Joshua's biggest pet peeve was being called Josh, so Dean decided that he was going to call him that every chance he got. Joshua retaliated by calling referring to Dean as Junior, since his legal name was Jonathan Dean Winchester Jr. Both protested, but John knew that even if they would never admit it, they were each secretly fond of their nicknames, just as long as no else dared use them.

"How was the conference?" Dean asked.

"I was the highlight," Joshua boasted.

Before Dean could say anything else, John cut him off. He could see that even this short exchange was tiring Dean out and he didn't want him out of bed for too long.

"Go back to bed, Dean," John said and seeing that Dean was about to protest, he added. "That's an order."

Dean sighed. "Yes, Sir," he mumbled sullenly. He stopped at the fridge and refilled his water jug, then he went back to the couch.

"Is Junior alright, John?" Joshua asked with concern.

"He had the flu last week and I think he pushed himself too hard to recover and caused a relapse. I don't know how to tell him that he's not going on the hunt this weekend. He was looking forward to it and I hate to disappoint him, but it's just too dangerous," John said with regret.

"I know. Do you want me to give Junior a once over?" Joshua offered.

"If you don't mind. I would really appreciate it," John accepted gratefully.

"No problem. What's been going on with him?"

"Well, like I said, he had the flu last week. This week, he's had no energy and a couple of dizzy spells," John explained. He had decided not to mention the bed wetting because he knew that Dean would be mortified if he knew that his father had told Joshua. "He's hasn't had a fever or vomiting though. In fact, his appetite seems to be the only thing not affected. I can't fill him up enough these days and he's forever in the bathroom."

Joshua shook his head in acknowledgement at each one of the symptoms John listed off. The eldest Winchester had the distinct feeling that the doctor was comparing them with some checklist that he had in his head.

"How long has this been going on?"

"This week, ever since he had the flu."

"John," Joshua said seriously. "Has Dean been losing weight, despite how much you say he's been eating?"

Joshua's tone, and the fact that he referred to his eldest as Dean, something he didn't do unless things were serious, was causing John to feel something he hadn't felt in a long time, not since he had lost Mary, genuine fear.

John barely nodded his head when everything clicked into place in the doctor's head. He jumped to his feet and looked John directly in the eye and said in a tone that left no room for argument. "Get Dean. We have to take him to the hospital_**now!!!"**_

A/N: Should I continue?

Please read and review and let me know.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

A/N: First a big thank to my beta reader Soar and I would also like to add my thanks to Sinead-Conlon for agreeing to check the accuracy of the medical information. You both rock. I would also like to thank everyone who's read, or read and reviewed. I was overwhelmed by the response to my first chapter, it was far and away the most reviews I have ever gotten and I hope that this chapter meets your expectations.

Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

"_More of Dr. Phil when we return," Oprah Winfrey said addressing the cameras and then the screen faded to black and into an ad for detergent._

Dean lay on the couch trying to keep himself awake. He wanted to appear alert because he had the distinct feeling that he was the current topic of conversation between Josh and his father and he didn't like it. The only thing he wanted to talk to Josh about was the hunt, not how he was feeling. If he did that, then he would have to admit that he felt like crap and then there would be no hunt.

Dean looked up as he saw his father enter the living room. He grabbed the remote and quickly changed the channel. There was no way he wanted his dad to catch him watching Oprah.

Dean felt his apprehension grow when he saw the look on his dad's face. It was a mixture of worry and concern, something John never showed unless he or Sam were seriously injured. If his dad looked like that, what was wrong with him? Like always, though, Dean put his game face on, pretending that he didn't notice the expression his dad wore.

"Dean, I need you to get dressed," John said seriously.

"What's up? We going to scout locations for the hunt this weekend?" Dean asked.

John smiled sadly. Dean was going to be so disappointed. "Not right now," John said dismissively. He was still trying to process everything Joshua had told him and just how much to tell Dean. He decided, just for right now, that he was going with his usual policy, need to know. Right now, the only thing Dean needed to know was that he was going to the hospital for a check up. "Joshua wants you to be examined at the hospital."

"Why? Can't Josh just give me a once over? I _**hate **_hospitals," Dean said in a voice that was dangerously close to a whine.

"I know, Dean, but you're still going," John said firmly. "Do you need some help?"

"I've been dressing myself since I was four. I'm good," Dean mumbled sullenly.

The only reason John didn't react was because he knew Dean wasn't himself. John watched his son pull himself off the couch, steady himself against the wave of dizziness that struck and walk slowly down the hall towards his room. John went to grab the Impala's keys, all the while replaying his and Joshua's earlier conversation.

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"Get Dean. We have to take him to the hospital_**now!!!"**_

"The hospital," John said in a surprised tone. "Joshua, what's going on? Can't you look him over? I mean, it's just the flu, right?"

"I don't have the equipment for the tests I think Dean needs," Joshua explained.

"Please, Joshua, what's going on?" John asked and then he visibly paled and continued in a shakily tone. "It's not can..."

"God, John, I'm sorry," Joshua interrupted. "No, I don't think it's cancer."

John gave a visible sigh of relief over that, but he was still afraid for his son, Joshua obviously thought something was wrong. "You don't think it's just the flu, do you?" He asked apprehensively.

"No, it's more than the flu. John, I think Dean has diabetes."

This wasn't what John was expecting. "Joshua," John said helplessly, looking at his friend for further explanation.

"I would feel better if Dean was at the hospital. If I'm right, his blood sugar is probably dangerously high," Joshua said seriously.

"His what?" John asked, his confusion growing rapidly along with his fear over Joshua's use of the word dangerously.

"John, I promise to explain everything to you, just please, if you ever trusted me, trust me now. We need to take Dean to the hospital."

John did trust Joshua, with his life and more importantly he trusted him with the lives of his sons. If he felt that Dean needed to go to the hospital, then that's where he was going.

"He'll be alright, won't he?" John asked in a tone that made him sound much younger than his years.

Joshua felt his heart go out to his old friend. He knew that the only thing that truly scared John Winchester was something happening to his boys. "He will be, diabetes is treatable," said Joshua reassuring his friend.

"I'll go get Dean," John said deciding that taking action was something he could do to help.

"I'm going to call ahead. That way they'll be expecting us," Joshua said.

John left and Joshua pulled out his cell phone. He dialled information and quickly got the number of the local hospital. He identified himself as Dean's doctor and explained his suspicions and quickly made arrangements for Dean's admission.

He was just thanking the nurse when John re-entered the room. He told Joshua that Dean was getting dressed.

"Joshua," John said as he came back into the kitchen. "Don't say anything to Dean yet, okay? I told him it was just a check up. I want to wait until there's a firm diagnosis."

"No problem, John, and for what it's worth, I hope I'm wrong," Joshua said sympathetically.

"But you don't think you are?" John asked.

"No, Dean's symptoms are text book," Joshua explained sadly.

Before John could say anything else, Dean came into the kitchen.

"You ready, Dean?" John asked his eldest son.

"Does it matter?" Dean snapped as he walked to the fridge. He wasn't going anywhere without a drink though. He opened the fridge door and pulled out the soda bottle.

"Hold up there, Junior," Joshua said. "If you're thirsty, get some water, okay?"

"Why? I've been drinking water all morning. I want something different," Dean said looking between Joshua and his father for some sign as to what was going on.

"Humor me," Joshua tried.

"Fine," Dean said somewhat irritated as he slammed the cola bottle back on the counter. He was about to get the water jug when he realized that he had left it in the living room. He slammed the fridge shut. "Never mind."

"Lose the attitude, Dean," John warned.

"Sorry," Dean said with no sincerity in his tone, but John was too worried to push the issue.

"Come on, let's go," Joshua said as they walked out the door, each lost in their own thoughts.

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Much too soon for Dean's comfort, they pulled up in front of Northside General Hospital. Dean knew that his dad and Josh were keeping something from him and it was making him nervous. He was tempted to refuse to get out of the car, but he knew it would do no good. His dad would physically haul him out if he had to. With a sigh, he dragged himself out of the car and followed Joshua while his dad went to park.

"Junior, you okay?" Joshua asked when Dean stopped short before entering the main door of the hospital.

"If I was, I wouldn't be here, would I?" Dean once again snapped at the doctor. He immediately felt bad, Josh was just trying to help. "Sorry," he said, this time meaning it.

"It's okay to be nervous, you know. Hospitals are no fun," Joshua said sympathetically.

"I'm not nervous," Dean said, trying hard to hide it. He took a deep breath and followed the elder hunter inside.

Knowing that Dean was getting tired, Joshua sent his young friend to go sit down while he checked them in. As he walked over to join the young hunter, Joshua thought of the perfect plan to distract Dean.

"Your dad tells me it was you that found the connection between the victims. Good job."

Dean shrugged his shoulders. "It was no big deal, anyone could have," He said as his gaze returned to an unidentifiable stain on the floor.

"John couldn't, Sam couldn't. Don't sell yourself short, Junior," Joshua said.

"You could've," Dean said softly.

"Maybe, but I wasn't there. It was all you," Joshua acknowledged. "How'd you do it?"

"I remembered your theory that a werewolf's victims aren't random, that on some level, there's a pattern, dug a little and found out they all worked for the same company. I suspected our guy had a grudge against them all. We located the next potential victim, it's just a matter of staking out a location and waiting," Dean explained.

"If I remember correctly, weren't you only 10 when I told you that theory? I can't believe that you remembered it. You did real good, Dean, I'm proud of you," Joshua said sincerely.

"Thanks," Dean said with a small, pleased smile. It meant a lot coming from Josh.

"Jonathan Winchester, Jr.," the admitting nurse called them.

Joshua rose and started walking. He turned and found Dean sitting frozen in his chair.

"Dean," Joshua asked softly. "Everything okay?"

"Where's dad?" he asked nervously.

Joshua looked at his friend's son. At 16, he was already more responsible than some adults, but right now, he looked every bit the kid he was. Joshua looked around and was relieved when he saw John walking toward them.

"Just in time, John," Joshua said. "They just called Dean's name."

"Dad, you're coming with me, right?" Dean asked as he looked to his father for reassurance.

"Yeah, buddy, let them try and stop me," John said firmly.

Dean gathered up his strength and followed his dad and Joshua to the admitting desk. The admitting nurse put an identification bracelet on him. He was looking at in disgust when he noticed an orderly coming toward him with a wheelchair.

"Oh, hell no," Dean protested sharply.

"It's hospital policy," the nurse tried to explain.

"You know what you can do with hospital policy, you can shove it..."

"Jonathan Dean, enough," John ground out.

That shut Dean up quickly. His father just had to glare at him and Dean sat himself in the wheelchair with a long suffering sigh.

"Give us about 15 minutes to get him settled, then you can come in. He'll be in room 256," the orderly instructed.

"Dad," Dean said as he grabbed his father's hand.

"I'm going with him," John informed the orderly in a tone that no one would have to argue with.

"We need you to stay and take care of the paperwork, Mr. Winchester," the nurse tried to argue anyway.

"Later," John informed them. He looked toward Joshua with a look of surprise. His insurance card said John McGillicutty. Why had Joshua registered Dean in his real name?

"Mr. Winchester..."

"I can take care of it," Joshua offered. "I'm Dean's personal physician. I know his medical history."

"Thanks," both John and Dean said as the orderly started pushing Dean's chair toward the elevators.

It wasn't long before they reached his assigned room and as much as Dean hated being there, he had to admit that the bed looked awfully inviting, but first, he needed to get to a washroom before he had another accident. There was no way that was happening here. It was almost as bad, though, when the orderly handed him a hospital gown, pointed out the bathroom and instructed him to get changed, and handed him a cup telling him they needed a urine sample.

Blushing, Dean took the offered items and did as asked. He knew it would do no good to protest, it would just get his dad mad. He wasn't long and when he exited the bathroom, he saw that the sheets on his bed were turned down. He handed the jar to the orderly and allowed John to assist him in climbing into bed.

"The doctor will be in with you shortly," the orderly informed both Winchesters.

"Thank you," John said. He turned his attention back to his son and he didn't fail to notice that Dean's eyelids were drooping and he was barely awake. "Get some rest, buddy. I promise I'll be here when you wake," John said and placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, offering what physical comfort that he could.

"Best offer I've had all day," Dean mumbled as he gave in to the approaching darkness.

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John, who was no stranger to hospitals, had expected to be waiting at least an hour or two for the doctor to show up. In his experience, that was what 'the doctor will be right with you' meant, so he was shocked when the doctor showed up less than 20 minutes later.

"Hi, you must be Jonathan Winchester Sr," the doctor addressed John as she walked into the room. "I'm Doctor Alison Doyle."

"That's me," John said proudly. He loved the fact that Mary had named their son after him. "You can call me John."

"I want to draw some of Jonathan's blood and do a quick examination. I need you to sign the consent form," Dr. Doyle said as she handed John the clipboard.

"Dean," John said as he scrawled his signature where Dr. Doyle had it marked.

"I'm sorry," she asked in confusion.

"He goes by Dean. Lot less confusing that way," John explained. "Do you have to wake him?"

"I'll do my best not to," she said with a small smile.

The doctor quickly and efficiently examined Dean. She also managed to draw the blood sample without waking him, for which John was grateful. It was purely selfish on his part, but he wasn't ready to answer Dean's questions. John didn't miss her frown. It made him even more nervous than he already was.

"I'm going to order an IV, Dean's severely dehydrated. I'll send the nurse in to set it up. I'm going to have the lab run this," she said as she held up Dean's blood sample. "Then I'll be back. I want to discuss your son's symptoms with you."

John couldn't hide his surprise, or his concern, when the doctor explained that Dean was dehydrated. Dean had drunk the equivalent of a small lake these last few days. The doctor didn't miss it.

"I know you have questions, John, and I promise to answer every last one of them. I'll be back in 10 minutes at the most," the doctor assured the concerned father. "I'll take good care of your boy."

"Thanks, doc," John said. For reasons he couldn't understand, he believed her.

Shortly after she left, a nurse, who introduced herself as Betty, entered and set up Dean's IV. John knew without a shadow of a doubt that Dean was not going to be a happy camper when he woke up. He glanced at the clock to see if the doctor would be back soon when he noticed the time and let loose a string of curses.

"Good thing Jim's not here or he'd be washing your mouth out with soap," Joshua said as he entered Dean's hospital room and handed John a cup of coffee. "Thought you could use this."

"Are you sure you're not psychic like Missouri?" John teased as he accepted the coffee happily.

"Just a good guesser. Now what was that about? Is it Dean?" Joshua asked with concern.

"No, he's sleeping. Sam gets out of school in about a half hour. I told I'd pick him up, but I promised Dean I'd be here when he woke up. He hates waking up in hospitals alone," John said.

"I can pick up Sam," Joshua offered kindly.

"Your car's back at the apartment."

Joshua rolled his eyes. "Can I borrow your keys, dad?" He asked sarcastically.

John hesitated. The only other person he usually let drive his car was Dean and that's only because he knew his son loved the car as much, if not more, than he did.

"Let me get this straight, John. You trust me with your boys, but you don't trust me with your car?" Joshua said teasingly.

John grinned and tossed the keys to Joshua. "Better not be a mark on her," he threatened.

"I promise to return her in one piece," Joshua promised.

"See that you do, or it won't be me you have to deal with," John said with a nod toward his sleeping son and gave Joshua directions to Sam's school.

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Joshua pulled up in front of Northside Middle school with five minutes to spare. He had to admit that he was enjoying driving the Impala. It was one sweet ride.

_RRRRIIIINNNGGG. _Joshua heard the final bell. He got out, stood beside the car and looked for Sam. It didn't take long to spot the boy. Joshua watched as Sam said goodbye to his friends. The boy spotted the car and immediately started walking toward it.

"Hey, Sam," Joshua greeted the youngest Winchester.

Despite being worried about Dean all day, Sam couldn't help but grin as he saw his dad's friend. Joshua was one of the few people who called him Sam, rather than Sammy, and it made him feel grown up.

"Hey, Joshua," Sam said as he returned the greeting. They would have hugged but Joshua was afraid of embarrassing Sam.

"Let me look at you, m'boy. You're getting big. I think you grew another foot," Joshua remarked.

"No, I've still just the two," Sam answered.

"Very funny," Joshua said dryly as he rolled his eyes.

"I thought so," Sam grinned as he climbed into the car.

"I'm serious though. You keep growing the way you are and you'll end up taller than Junior," Joshua said.

"Better not let Dean hear you say that," Sam started and abruptly changed the subject and asked in a worried tone, "How's Dean, Joshua? Dad got you to check him out didn't he? How come you're picking me up? What's wrong with my brother?"

"Yeah, Sam, he asked me to," Joshua said and added in a serious tone, "Dean's in the hospital..."

"I _**told**_ Dad he needed to take Dean to the doctor..."

"Sam!" Joshua tried, but Sam wasn't about to let Joshua speak.

""But _**nooo**_!!! He's too stubborn to listen. "

"Sam!"

"Once again, Dean pays the price!"

"SAM, ENOUGH," Joshua ground out forcibly, effectively stopping Sam's tirade. "Dean's going to be fine."

"Then why is he in the hospital? That doesn't sound fine to me?" Sam persisted stubbornly.

"When your father gave me Dean's symptoms, it set off a red flag for me, but only because I'm a doctor. To your father, it would look like the flu, so don't blame him. Right now, you're all going to have a lot to deal with, getting into it with your father isn't going to help."

"What's wrong with Dean, Joshua?" Sam asked once again.

"I had your father take Junior to the hospital because he's showing signs of diabetes. Do you know what that is?" Joshua asked.

"It's when your body stops making insulin," Sam said.

Joshua was not surprised that Sam knew this. "Basically," Joshua confirmed.

"Does Dean have it?"

"Like I said, he's showing symptoms. The doctors are doing some tests to confirm the diagnosis," Joshua said.

"I want to see my brother, Joshua," Sam said with concern.

"Let's go then. Just remember, anyone asks, you're thirteen or they won't let you visit." Joshua instructed.

"They can try," Sam said in a voice that eerily reminded Joshua of John.

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Dean could hear voices all around him. He could clearly make out Joshua's, his dad's, and Sammy's, as he drifted back toward consciousness. He blinked several times, trying to clear away the cobwebs. It took a few tries, but eventually he opened his eyes fully and took in his surroundings. The first thing he saw was his father. This relaxed Dean considerably. No matter what was going on, he always felt safe when his dad was there.

John had seen Dean start to stir and he reached over and pressed the call button to ring for the doctor. Dr. Doyle had come and answered John's questions and left instructions to have her paged so she could go over it with Dean when he awoke. John was feeling overwhelmed by all the information he had been given, so he didn't mind hearing it again, and he was glad that Joshua was here as well.

"How're you feeling, Dean?" Sam asked.

Before answering Sam, Dean turned his gaze toward the IV and gave it a look of pure hatred that he usually reserved for supernatural creatures, but whatever they were giving him, it seemed to be working. "I'm good, Sammy," Dean said giving the answer Sam had expected him to.

"Tell the truth, please," Sam said and unleashed his secret weapon, his puppy dog eyes.

"Okay, Sammy, you win. I'm still feeling pretty crappy, but I do feel a little better, honestly," Dean admitted seriously. "I don't feel like I want to drink the entire city's water supply anymore."

"That's a good sign, Junior," Joshua said.

"It certainly is," said a female voice.

All four of the room's occupants looked up as Dr. Doyle entered the room and introduced herself to Dean.

"Does this mean I can get out of here soon?" Dean asked. He was still clinging to the hope that he would make the hunt this Saturday, but it was fading fast at the serious look on the doctor's face.

"You're not ready yet, but don't worry, I won't keep you one minute longer than I have to," the doctor reassured him.

"What's wrong with me?" Dean asked.

"The technical name for what you have is called diabetes mellitus. Are you familiar with it?" The doctor asked Dean.

Dean was quiet for a moment, processing the first word the doctor had spoke. He had heard of it before. He tried to remember if his teacher had covered it in health class, but the only thing he could really remember was wanting to study anatomy with Bonnie Parks. He vaguely remembered something about sugar and shots. He sighed. "Not really," he admitted.

"I'll explain. If you have any questions though, feel free to stop me. When we eat, our bodies break down the carbohydrates in food into glucose, or blood sugar. This gives the body the fuel it needs to sustain itself and gives us the energy we need to survive. Diabetes disrupts that process. Your pancreas, that's the organ located here," the doctor said indicating the general spot on her body. "Your pancreas contains what are called beta cells. These cells produce a hormone called insulin. Insulin is what your body uses to allow glucose to pass into your cells and be used for energy. You with me so far?"

"Could you say that in English?" Dean muttered.

"Your dad asked the same thing," Dr. Doyle said with a small grin. "Think of insulin as a key to a locked door. When you insert your key, the door opens. Without it, you're stuck outside with nowhere to go. Insulin basically unlocks the door to your body's cells and allows the glucose to enter. In someone with diabetes, the body stops producing insulin and all that glucose builds up in your blood stream with nowhere to go."

"What happens to it?" Sam asked curiously.

"It just continues to build up in the blood steam. Your body tries to expel it through urine. Did you find yourself going to the bathroom a lot, Dean?" Dr. Doyle asked.

"Yeah," Dean admitted shyly.

"Because your body is not getting nutrients, it was sending out signals that you were hungry. The more you ate, the more glucose built up in your blood stream, which your body tried to get rid of. It's a vicious cycle. You were eating, but in a sense, you were starving to death."

Dean's eyes grew wide as he took in all the information that the doctor was giving him. He didn't want to hear anymore. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like it.

"Any questions so far?" the doctor asked him. Dean just shook his head. This caused John to begin to worry all over again. Dean went silent when things were becoming too much for him. He laid his hand gently on Dean's shoulder, much like Dean did for him when he came home wrecked from a hunt. Dean understood the gesture and gave his dad a small, grateful smile in return.

"I have a question?" Sam said.

"Why am I not surprised," Dean muttered and it was music to John's ears that Dean spoke.

"Go ahead," said Dr. Doyle.

"How did you check to see if Dean had diabetes?" Sam asked.

"After Dean was admitted, we did a random plasma glucose test. That's where we test the level of glucose in your blood. A more common term is blood sugar level. It's measured in milligrams per deciliter and a normal blood sugar level is 100mg/dl of blood. Dean your BSL was 283mg/dl. You're lucky you came in when you did. Any higher and you could have gone into ketoacidosis.

"What's that?" Sam asked before anyone else could.

"That's when your body gets so desperate for energy that it starts to break down fat and protein. This releases what are called ketones into the blood stream. It can be fatal."

John, Sam, and Dean grew sombre at these words.

"Nothing else could have caused it?" John asked. He wanted to get off that subject. "You're certain Dean has diabetes."

"Yes," Dr. Doyle said firmly. "With a blood sugar level that high, it's usually certain, although if it will make you feel better, we can perform an oral glucose tolerance test."

"What's that?" Dean asked. John and Joshua were both pleased that Dean was finally taking an active part in the discussion.

"We have you fast for about eight hours. Then we measure your blood sugar to get a base line and then have you drink a sugary solution and your blood sugar is measured after an hour, and then again after two hours. A normal level should be lower than 140 two hours after the test. Anything over 200 indicates diabetes.

"Do it," Dean requested. _Maybe the first test was a fluke, he thought._

"Hold on, buddy," John said as he realized that Dean wasn't really taking an active role, he was trying to find some glimmer of hope that this wasn't happening to him. "You said that Dean's levels are 283, could doing this test hurt him?"

"He's getting an insulin infusion in his IV and it's bringing down his blood sugar. Plus he would be fasting for eight hours. I wouldn't have mentioned it if I thought it would compromise his health."

"Alright, set it up," John agreed.

"Dr. Doyle, if Dean has diabetes, he'll be okay, right?" Sam asked nervously. He couldn't lose his big brother.

"Yes, Sam, as long as he takes care of himself."

"Hello," Dean snapped. "Still in the room."

"How do you treat him?" Sam asked as if he hadn't heard Dean, which caused his older brother to sigh in frustration. There was no stopping Sammy when he got on a roll.

"With a combination of diet management, insulin and exercise. Over the next few days, Dean, myself and Betty, she's the diabetic nurse, will be teaching you about insulin and how to administer it and also about planning your meals to balance out the insulin."

"Is Dean going to need injections?' Sam asked.

"Yes, Sam, that's right. Over the next couple of days, when we remove the IV, we will teach you how to give yourself your own insulin shots, Dean," Dr. Doyle explained.

"I thought I read somewhere that there was more than one type of diabetes?" Sam asked again.

Dr. Doyle was surprised at just how many questions Sam was asking, it was usually the patient.

"There are type one and type two diabetics. All type ones control their diabetes with insulin injections. Some type two diabetics don't need them. Based on the rapid onset of Dean's symptoms, I would say he's type one."

"Hey, Junior, do you have any questions for Dr. Doyle?" Joshua asked Dean before Sam could open his mouth again. "Your dad, your brother and even me, we're going to be with you every step of the way through this, but it's your disease, you have to learn how to manage it." Joshua said encouraging John's eldest.

"Can you repeat what you said about the shots?" Dean asked Dr. Doyle to make sure he heard right.

"We'll teach you how to administer your own insulin shots."

"Can't I just take a pill?" Dean asked in a pleading tone.

"Unfortunately, there's no other way to get insulin into a diabetic's body. Pills wouldn't stand up to the acid in a person's stomach."

"Don't some diabetics take pills?" John asked. He thought he remembered something about it.

"Those pills aren't insulin. They stimulate the pancreas into producing insulin," the doctor stopped and smiled at Sam. "Before you ask, they don't work for type one diabetics."

"How long do I have to do this?" Dean asked in a resigned tone.

"Forever, Dean, for the rest of your life," the doctor said seriously.

Dean went sheet white at this response. He couldn't do this. He didn't want to do this.

"Easy, son," John said trying to comfort Dean.

"Leave me alone," Dean said as he shrugged his father's hand off his shoulder and rolled over onto his side, facing the wall, and closed his eyes.

"I think that's enough for today. Here's some pamphlets that explain more about what we covered. Dean, I'll let you get some rest," Dr. Doyle said, knowing that it was time to leave.

Things were tense in room 256 after the doctor left. John, Sam, and Joshua were all worried about Dean. He refused to speak or even make eye contact with any of them. John knew that this was Dean's way of processing all of it. He had to go over it in his head until he could deal with it.

Dean was doing just that. He wasn't very hopeful that the new test they were giving him was going to say anything different. Joshua and the doctor seemed to think it was just going to confirm what they were already saying, that he had diabetes.

_Attention all visitors, please note that visiting hours are ending. _The loud speaker blared

This caused Dean to reach out and grab his dad, who he knew was nearby. John read the gesture loud and clear. _Please don't leave. _

"Joshua, can you take Sam home?" John asked.

"I want to stay with Dean," Sam protested.

"You have school tomorrow. Dean will be fine. I promise to call Joshua if anything happens. Joshua will pick you up and bring you here tomorrow okay?"

"I guess," Sam reluctantly agreed. "I'll see you tomorrow, Dean."

"Good night, Junior," Joshua added. Neither really expected an answer so they weren't surprised when they didn't get one.

It wasn't long after that when Dean succumbed once more to sleep. John pulled up a chair and sat beside his sleeping son, keeping watch. Heaven help anyone that tried to throw him out.

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The next day, Dr. Doyle performed the oral blood glucose test and after two hours, Dean's blood sugar level rose well over 140. Dean was given another insulin infusion and an official diagnosis of diabetes milletus.

Sam and Joshua visited that evening and Dean tried to keep his game face on, but he just wanted people to leave him alone. He was quiet and subdued all evening. He spoke sparingly, just yes or no answers mainly. He was still trying to process everything the doctor had told him. His dad and Sam relied on him. Would they still be able to when he needed shots and a special diet? There was only one question that he wanted an answer to and it was one he couldn't ask Dr. Doyle. She wouldn't understand. Could he still hunt? He could ask Josh, but he didn't. He was too afraid of the answer.

Sam stayed with Dean that evening, while John went back to the apartment for a quick shower and a change of clothes. Joshua followed John back to the hospital in his own car so that John wasn't stuck without transportation.

"How is he, Sam?" John asked when he and Joshua entered the room after getting back.

"He's sleeping right now. Are you sure Dean's going to be alright? He's still not saying much" Sam said in a worried tone.

"He'll be fine, Sam. Just give him time," John assured his son. "I promise, Sammy I wouldn't lie about that."

"Alright, 'night dad," Sam said as he headed reluctantly for the exit.

"See you tomorrow, Sammy," John said softly to his young son.

Joshua led Sam out the door and once again, John resumed his post at Dean's side.

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Saturday was crisp and clear. When Dean awoke that morning, he found that he was actually starting to feel like a human being again. Dr. Doyle made her morning visit and announced that Dean's blood sugar levels were coming down nicely and he could probably have the IV removed later that day. Dean wondered if he could talk his dad into signing him out long enough for him to go on the hunt. The only way he was going to accomplish that though, was if he spoke.

"Hey, dad, what about the hunt tonight?" Dean asked his dad after Dr. Doyle left the room.

John breathed a sigh of relief that Dean was talking again. John, himself, was wishing he could go silent. He hated to disappoint his son. "Don't worry about it, Dean. Joshua said he would take care of it. He took Sam with him to help scout out a good location."

"But..."

"Sorry, son," John said as Dean's face couldn't mask his disappointment.

"Dr. Doyle said my blood sugar levels were normal," Dean tried.

"Nice try, she said they were coming down, but Dean, they're not stable. When the doctor gets your diet and insulin dosage worked out, then we'll talk about you going hunting again.'

Dean scowled. "You know werewolves are scarce. When am I going to get a chance to hunt one with Josh again? Sam didn't even want to go on this hunt," he protested sadly.

John felt his heart going out to his son. He asked for so little. "I know it's not fair, Dean, but remember this, you're the one that found the link, you did all the leg work on this case, so Joshua is hunting this on your intel. You're as much a part of it as if you were there and it's not like I was going to let you be the one to pull the trigger," John explained. Werewolves reverted back to human form when they were killed and John was not about to let Dean experience that just yet.

He had talked to Joshua about Dean hunting and his friend had confirmed that Dean could still do everything he had done before, he just had to be more careful.

"It doesn't matter anyway," Dean said, but John knew that it did. Dean was sorry for bringing it up and before his dad could say another word, he changed the subject to neutral territory.

Sam and Joshua came for their daily visit and shortly after they left, Dr. Doyle came in and removed Dean's IV. Dean was glad to get rid of it until his doctor informed him that she would be starting him on insulin injections the next morning.

John asked Dean if he would be okay while he ran down to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee, Dean informed his dad that he would and John wasn't gone more than 10 minutes. When he got back, all he found was crumpled bed sheets and a hospital gown pooled on the floor. The bed was empty, as was the bathroom. Dean was nowhere in sight.

"Where the hell did he go?" John growled as he cursed himself for leaving Dean alone.

Do you want more?

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	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

A/N: Thanks to Soar once again for the awesome beta job. Also thank you to Sinead-Conlan and Karasu Yurei for the offer to beta my medical facts.

John asked Dean if he would be okay while he ran down to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee, Dean informed his dad that he would and John wasn't gone more than 10 minutes. When he got back, all he found was crumpled bed sheets and a hospital gown pooled on the floor. The bed was empty, as was the bathroom. Dean was nowhere in sight.

"Where the hell did he go?" John growled as he cursed himself for leaving Dean alone. He glanced at his watch. Joshua would be leaving for the hunt shortly. Joshua was one of the few people that John trusted implicitly with his sons, Pastor Jim and Bobby being the others, so when Sam said he would accompany Joshua on the hunt, John knew that Sam would be as safe with Joshua as he was with John himself. John knew that Sam had volunteered, not because he particularly wanted to go, but because it was unsafe to hunt alone, and Sam wanted his dad to be able to stay with Dean.

He would never admit it, but John knew that Dean hated to be alone when he was in the hospital. Sam didn't know the reason, but John did and he was ashamed to admit that it was entirely his fault. Whenever Dean had to be hospitalized, John liked to stay with him as much as possible.

_Think John, he told himself. Where would he go? He's feeling overwhelmed, he's upset at missing the hunt. Oh god,__no, he wouldn't, he couldn't. He wouldn't be that careless to go try to join Joshua would he? He had no idea where they were staked out, he could do more harm than good if he showed up there. Dean knows that, he wouldn't risk Sam and Joshua's life. _

"Mr. Winchester."

John jumped as he heard someone walk up behind him. He saw that it was the nurse, Betty.

"Sorry, didn't mean to frighten you," Betty said sincerely.

"Don't worry about it. I was just thinking. What's up?"

"I want to measure Dean's blood sugar and it's time for his evening snack," Betty explained as she glanced toward the empty bed. "Where is he?'

"Um, to be honest, I'm not sure. You didn't take him for tests or anything did you?" John asked hopefully.

Betty frowned. "No, no tests scheduled. We can test his blood sugar right here with a simple finger prick. What do you mean you don't know where he is?"

"I went for a cup of coffee and when I got back, he was gone. Is he going to be alright?" John asked in a worried tone.

"He needs to eat. Insulin needs food to work with. He could have a hypoglycaemic attack. We have to find him and quickly," Betty said seriously.

"A... a, um, a what?" John asked in confusion.

"It means his blood sugar could drop too low."

"I thought it was supposed to stay low?" John asked, his confusion growing rapidly.

"Not too low. Too low is just as dangerous as too high. It could cause sweating, trembling, dizziness, confusion and even seizures if left untreated. Did Dean have a date or some place to be tonight that he could have gone to?"

_Only with a werewolf, John thought. _"No date," was what he said out loud.

"Does he have a place that he likes to go when he gets stressed? My daughter likes to sit on our front porch swing," Betty said kindly.

John, all of a sudden, knew where Dean was. There were several times that John could remember Dean just sitting in the Impala, listening to the radio. "I think I know where he is. What should I do?" John asked suddenly.

"Grab a soda, a regular one, from the vending machine. If he is having a hypo, he's going to need sugar," Betty instructed. "Then bring him back to his room."

John quickly left the hospital and made his way to the parking lot. He was overcome with relief when he saw, not only the car, but Dean sitting behind the wheel. He ran over to the car and yanked open the passenger side, sliding in next to his son. Relief turned to fear when he finally got a good look at Dean.

Dean was hunched over the steering wheel. He had his arms folded and his head resting on top of them. He didn't move when he heard the car door open. He knew his father had found him. He could tell his father's presence anywhere and he didn't need to see him to know he was there.

Dean had to admit that this hadn't been his smartest move. He had felt fine until he reached the parking garage, then he started to feel slightly dizzy, but no more than before he had come to the hospital. He figured it would pass once he got settled like the other times, but it didn't, instead, it got worse. Right now, everything was spinning so fast he was afraid that if he moved, he was either going to vomit or pass out. He was hoping for the latter so he didn't ruin the upholstery.

"Dean, son, you okay?" John asked gently so he didn't startle his son.

"Dad, make it stop please," Dean begged. He was so relieved that his dad was there. His dad would make everything all right before he killed him.

John reached into his pocket and pulled out the can of soda, popped the top and held it out to Dean. "Dean, lift your head up slowly and drink this," John said firmly.

"Can't," Dean mumbled.

"It's an order, Dean," John stated in his best drill sergeant's voice. It worked. Dean reached out and took the can and did his best to comply with the order.

A few minutes later, Dean was able to see straight again. He looked sheepishly at his dad, he was in for it now. Now that he knew Dean was okay, John was debating with himself about whether to comfort Dean or kill him. He decided on both. First, he was going to comfort him and then he was going to kill him.

"Dean, thank God you're alright. I was worried sick," John roughly.

"I'm sorry, dad," Dean said meekly.

"Talk to me, Dean," John demanded softly. "What on earth made you decide to leave?"

Dean looked out the window, lost in thought.

"Dean," John prompted.

"I wanted to go hunt," Dean mumbled. "I felt fine when I left. Halfway here, I realized I couldn't go. I could have comprised Josh and Sam's position. I was going to head back, but I didn't think I could make it."

John felt his heart, once again, going out to his son. He believed Dean when he said he'd changed his mind about trying to go on the hunt. "How are you feeling now? Do you think you could make it back to your room, or should I get a wheelchair?"

"NO!" Dean cried.

"Are you sure?" John asked.

"I can make it," Dean insisted.

"I'm going to trust you on this one, but the minute you feel shaky, you tell me. Understand!" John stated firmly and Dean quickly nodded his assent.

John assisted Dean out of the car and made him take a few more sips from the soda can.

"You're not mad?" Dean questioned his dad when they started back.

"I didn't say that, but right now, you need to be back in bed. We'll talk about punishment later," John said.

It wasn't long before they arrived back at Dean's room. John instructed Dean to get changed and back into bed. While Dean was in the bathroom, John pushed the call button and informed the nurse that Dean was back. John had just gotten Dean settled into bed when, not just Betty, but Dr. Doyle showed up as well. She gave him the once over, checked his blood sugar level and still found it a bit low. Betty left and quickly came back with a snack tray.

"I'm not hungry," Dean tried to protest when he saw the food. He just wanted to be left alone.

"Not an option," Betty insisted. "What happened downstairs could happen again."

Dean was about to say something else when a glare from his father caused it to die before it ever left his lips. He ate without another word.

They both tried to watch a movie on the small TV, but they were both waiting to hear from Joshua and Sam. A little after 11pm, John felt his cell phone vibrate and he went into Dean's bathroom to have some privacy. He wanted to talk about what happened to Dean earlier without his son hearing.

"Hey, Joshua, how did things go?" John questioned.

_"Great, Junior's intel was spot on. No sooner did the full moon appear than it went after exactly who Junior predicted. I took care of him,__no problem. The longest part was the clean up. Tell that boy of yours__he did a great job, he's going to make a fine hunter," Joshua said. He wanted to make sure that Dean got full credit._

"I will, Joshua, thanks. No complications?" John asked, meaning no nosy neighbours or cops. He poked his head out of the bathroom and gave Dean a thumbs up sign so that he would know everything was okay.

"_Nope. Everything went great."_

"Thanks, Joshua."

_"I'll be by the hospital tomorrow. How's Junior?" He noticed John's hesitation. "Did something happen?"_

"Yeah, apparently he decided that it would be a good idea to join you guys," John said.

_"He what?" Joshua asked in surprise._

"Thank God he came to his senses before he made it out of the parking lot. When I found him, he was having a hypo something or other. You never told me that could happen, Joshua," John accused.

_"Hypoglycaemic__attack?"_

"That's it. You told me Dean could still hunt," John said.

_"He can, John. He just has to time his meals and injections__and make sure that he checks his blood sugar before and after a hunt."_

"What if one of those attacks happens in the middle of a hunt, he could get hurt, or Sam could," John said in a worried tone.

_"He could also trip and fall, spill gasoline on himself, or get thrown by a poltergeist. There's a lot of what ifs. John, you know I care about the boys, I would never put them at risk. If I didn't feel it was possible for Dean to hunt safely,__I promise, I would tell you," Joshua reasoned._

"Let me ask you this. Would you still say that in front of Bobby?" John asked.

_"Yes," Joshua said confidently._ Joshua knew that John and Bobby had a special relationship. They were like brothers. Joshua also knew that Bobby loved John's boys as if they were his own sons. He had a protective streak towards John's eldest that put Dean's toward Sam to shame. Joshua would rather face a horde of demons than a pissed off Bobby if he did something that deliberately put Dean at risk.

_"Speaking of Bobby, did you call him?" Joshua asked._

"Not yet."

_"He'd want to know," Joshua insisted. _

"I'll call him tomorrow. Right now, this is all just so..." John trailed off, unable to put his thoughts into words.

_"Scary. It's not a crime to admit you're__scared,__John. Diabetes is very serious and Dean is going to have to look after himself,__but you can't let it control you. You have to let him live his life," Joshua said. _

John ran his fingers through his hair and sighed loudly. "I know. I just need some time to get used to this."

_"You all will," Joshua said. "It's not going to happen overnight. Just remember what I said."_

"Thanks Joshua, for everything," John said sincerely.

_"I'll talk to you tomorrow. Good night."_

"'Night, Joshua," John said as he hung up the phone.

He went back into Dean's room and told him all the details about the hunt and how Joshua had nothing but good things to say about his work. Dean was still upset that he couldn't be there though and he informed his dad that he didn't want to talk about it. He then promptly rolled over and went to sleep. John felt so badly for his son. He didn't know what to say, so he did the only thing he could, he laid a hand on Dean's shoulder in silent comfort and kept watch while Dean slept.

A couple of hours later, Dr. Doyle showed up and took Dean's vitals, fortunately without waking him. She looked over at the young man's father, he seemed dead on his feet. She knew from one of the other night nurses that it was pointless to ask him to leave though. One of them had asked him to leave on the night Dean was admitted. Ann wouldn't say much about what happened after that, but no one asked him to leave again.

"John, you look exhausted. I promise Dean will be fine if you want to get a good nights sleep," Dr. Doyle assured John.

"I'm fine," John insisted.

"Look, if you don't want to go home, you can lie down in the waiting room. There's a really comfy couch in there," she offered.

John looked tempted. He had been at the hospital for the past two nights, trying to sleep in a chair. He really was tired, but he didn't want to leave Dean alone. "I'm fine," he repeated.

"Dean will be okay," she tried once again.

"I know, but he doesn't like to wake up alone when he's in a hospital," John explained.

Dr. Doyle frowned. "Does he spend a lot of time in hospitals?" she questioned.

John cursed himself for giving the doctor an opportunity to pry into their past. He was going to kill Joshua for giving their real names. "Um, no, just twice. Once when he was 4, with a high fever and another time when he was 12, with a broken rib. He got hit by a baseball," John covered. "Something happened when he was four and because of it, I make sure he's not alone."

Dr. Doyle had found nothing suspicious in Dean's records, so she had no reason not to believe John. She was curious as to what had happened, but she could clearly tell from John's demeanor that he wasn't about to inform her.

"Why don't you lay down for a little while? I can have one of the nurses wake you. It should be before Dean wakes up."

"No," John said firmly. "I'm not taking a chance. My friend, Joshua, will be here tomorrow. He offered to stay with Dean. I'll head home tomorrow then. Thanks for the offer though."

"You're welcome. I'll see you tomorrow," Dr. Doyle said, admitting defeat.

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The next day, Dean awoke and looked around the room for his dad. He found him sound asleep in a chair beside his bed. Dean tried to calm himself down. He was feeling shaky and he was extremely nervous about what was going to happen that morning.

_Suck it up,__Dean, he told himself. It's__not like you haven't had shots before. Nothing to it. Right?_

"Good morning, Dean," Nurse Betty said brightly as she entered his room.

"'Morning," Dean mumbled.

"How are you feeling this morning?'

"Okay, I guess," Dean replied.

"Right, now I have to check your blood sugar."

"Go ahead," Dean said in a resigned tone.

"Watch what I do closely. It's really simple." Betty showed Dean how to load the small, fine pointed needle, which she called a lancet, into a spring loaded device that looked like a small pen. "Now, all you do is put it against the tip of your finger and press this button," Betty instructed as she did so. "Now you take one of these test strips and put a drop of blood here, and slide it into the meter. The number that shows up on screen is what your level is. You usually want to see it 100 before meals and about 120 after meals. Right now, yours is a little low." Betty reached into her pocket and removed, what looked to Dean, like a roll of candy.

"What's that?" He asked.

"They're called glucose tablets. You should always carry them with you, and if your feel your blood sugar dropping too low, take a couple of these and they should help," Betty explained as she opened the package and took out a couple and handed them to Dean. He swallowed them and soon noticed the shaky feeling he was experiencing begin to lessen, he had thought that it was nerves.

"Dr. Doyle should be in soon, she's going to show you how to administer an injection. Right now, I need to ask you some questions."

"About what?" Dean asked.

"Just about your lifestyle. There are different types of insulin therapy, two of the most common types are conventional therapy and flexible therapy. With conventional therapy, you usually receive one to three fixed doses of insulin at the same time each day. Because you're taking fixed doses at the same time, you have to eat approximately the same amount of food each day, at the same time, and maintain a similar activity level each day to balance out your insulin dose. Flexible therapy is just the opposite and just as the name indicates, it gives you much more flexibility on injection, meal times and activity level," Betty explained.

"Why do I get the feeling there's a but coming?" Dean asked.

Betty grinned. "Good guess, there is one. You have to be more vigilant in monitoring your blood sugar, and you're at a greater risk for a hypoglycaemic attack. It also requires 3 or more injections per day. If I had to guess, I would say you're an athlete, right?"

"You could say that," Dean confirmed.

"What's your favourite sport?"

"Baseball," Dean answered. This was one thing he could be honest about.

"What team?'

"Yankees," Dean said with a grin.

"What position do you play?"

"All three outfield positions mainly, and I sometimes play catcher."

"What other sports do you play?" Betty inquired.

"Track and cross country mostly," Dean said as he thought about trying to out run Wendigos and black dogs. "I also play a bit of basketball and wrestling." He and Sam usually just shot hoops whenever there was a basket wherever they were staying and wrestling was actually sparring with Sam.

"Lots of physical activity," Betty said as she made a notation on Dean's chart. "Do you train a lot?"

"Yes," Dean answered. His father had a strict training schedule.

"Do you travel to tournaments?"

"Yes," Dean nodded.

"I'm guessing that sometimes it won't be possible for you to always eat at the same time?"

"Right. Sometimes it takes a few days to get to the hu... game."

"I would recommend a flexible therapy schedule then, but it's up to you."

"Since I have to pick one, that one sounds better," Dean mumbled as he lowered his eyes and stared at his hands.

"I know it's not easy," Betty said trying to offer some small amount of comfort.

"How would you know?" Dean snapped. He was getting really tired of everyone telling him that.

"Because I've been there," Betty said and reached up, pulling a necklace out from under her uniform top. Dean could see it was a silver chain with a small, round medallion on the end. There was a medical insignia on the front. Betty flipped it over and leaned over so Dean could see what was written on the back. It said Diabetes- Type one. "So you see, Dean, I know full well what you're going through."

"Sorry," Dean said sincerely.

"Don't worry about it. I was diagnosed when I was 18, and I'm 46 now. I've been a diabetic for 28 years, so I've had a lot of time to get used to it."

"Good morning," said another voice joining them. Dean looked up and saw his doctor entering the room.

"Morning, doc," Dean mumbled and looked toward his dad, wanting him to wake up because he didn't want to do this alone.

John stirred at the exact same moment, it was almost if he sensed that his son needed him. He greeted the doctor and the nurse and took a seat on the bed beside his son. On impulse, John lifted his arm up and put it across Dean's shoulders. Dean leaned into his father, seeking the comfort he had always found there when he was little.

"It's okay, Dean," John reassured him softly.

"Don't worry, Dean," Dr. Doyle said as she added her reassurances to John's. "We'll take this at whatever pace you're comfortable with. You ready to get started?"

"Yeah," Dean said, so softly that they had trouble hearing him.

"Okay, let's start with the basics," Dr. Doyle began. "The human pancreas produces what we call basal insulin, which is a steady supply provided throughout the day. It also releases higher amounts, or a bolus dose, after meals. We have to make sure that we supply both. Now, did Betty discuss flexible and conventional treatments with you, Dean?"

Dean nodded and admitted, "Flexible would work better."

"Alright. Your morning dose is going to consist of a mixture of basal insulin, or intermediate acting, and bolus insulin, which can be either rapid acting or short acting. You with me so far?"

"Yeah," Dean said.

"Each type of insulin has a length of time it takes to start working. Rapid acting starts within 5 to 15 minutes and short acting is within 30-45 minutes," Dr. Doyle continued.

"So, if I knew I couldn't eat right away, I would use the short acting and if I'm going to eat right away, I would use the rapid," Dean stated.

"Exactly," Dr Doyle confirmed. "The intermediate insulin is cloudy and your rapid and short acting is clear. When you mix insulin, you always draw up the clear first and the cloudy second. Right, now I'm going to show you how to prepare the injection." Dr. Doyle picked up the syringe. It was the smallest one Dean had ever seen.

"You're lucky, Dean," Betty said, trying to put her patient at ease. "Nowadays, you have syringes that are specifically designed for insulin. The needles are so small and fine you barely feel them. When I was first diagnosed, we used regular syringes. You had to be extremely careful that you didn't hit blood vessels or push the needle in too deep that it went into your muscle instead of fat. Let me tell you, it hurt, a lot."

"Betty's right, Dean," Dr. Doyle added. "Plus, we have disposable syringes. Back when Insulin was first invented, you used the same syringe and had to boil it between injections to re-sterilize it. John, I want you to pay attention as well. You're going to have to know how to do this too."

"Why?" asked John.

"Just in case, for whatever reason, Dean isn't able to," Dr. Doyle explained.

"I can do it," Dean said, trying to portray a confidence that he didn't feel. There was no way he was letting his father do this for him.

"I don't doubt it," Betty confirmed.

"Dean, when you're getting ready to administer your injection, the first thing you want to do is make sure you have everything you need. For your morning injection, you're going to need a syringe, two alcohol wipes, your bottle of intermediate insulin and either regular or short acting, depending on which one you're going with. This morning, we'll be using the short acting. A bottle of opened insulin lasts about thirty days, so when you open a fresh bottle, you remove the safety seal at the top and write the date you started to use the bottle," Dr. Doyle said as she pointed out everything. "Your morning dose is going to be 15 units of intermediate and 42 units of clear for a total dose of 57 units. Any questions so far?"

"No," Dean said.

John resisted the urge to sigh. There was on obvious question and he really wished that Dean had asked it. "How do you determine the dose?" John asked.

"It's a formula based on the number of injections per day, body weight and the amount of calories. It kind of complicated and the dietician will go over it in detail a little later. Right now, we don't want to overwhelm you with too much information."

"Dean's a whiz at math. He should have no problem with it," John said.

Dean looked at his father and gave him a small smile. He was pleased that his father had noticed his math grades.

"Now, Dean," Dr. Doyle continued. "It makes it easier to draw insulin from the vial if you inject air into it first. The amount of air you inject into should match your prescribed dose. First, you pick up the syringe and pull off the orange sterility cap, be careful that you don't damage the tip of the needle though."

"Wouldn't want that to happen," Dean said sarcastically. He could feel his dad glaring at him. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Dr. Doyle picked up where she had left off. It was nothing that she hadn't heard before. "Now, you inject air into the cloudy insulin first. So we bring the stopper down to 15 units, lay the insulin vial on a flat surface, and wipe the top with one of the alcohol pads and press the tip of the needle down into the bottle. Slowly, push the plunger. Try not to go too fast to avoid creating air bubbles. Now, we repeat the process with the clear insulin," Dr. Doyle said demonstrating as she spoke. "Now that we have injected air into both bottles we're ready to draw the insulin, you pick up the bottle and flip it upside down and draw your clear insulin to 42 units. Again, be careful to go slow because you don't want to create air bubbles."

Once again, John looked to Dean to see if he would ask the question. Dean remained silent. "What happens if you get bubbles?" John asked for his son.

"They take the place of insulin in the syringe and can prevent you from getting your correct dose. If you get bubbles, push the plunger and inject them back into the bottle and redraw it a little slower," Dr. Doyle instructed. "Now that you have your clear insulin drawn, we repeat the process with the cloudy. Be extremely careful when drawing the cloudy because you can't push it back into the bottle or you contaminate your cloudy vial. Because there is already 42 units in the syringe we have to draw up to 57. There, now you're ready to give yourself the injection."

"Dean, relax," Betty said when Dean visibly tensed at the doctors words. "Dr. Doyle just meant that you're ready to get the injection, we're not going to make you give yourself this one."

"Sorry, Dean," Dr. Doyle said adding her own apologies. "Bad choice of words. John, I'm going to need you to move."

John reluctantly removed his arm from around Dean's shoulders and pushed out of the way. Dr. Doyle asked Dean to lift up his shirt. "You can inject into your abdomen, thigh, the back of your arms or your buttocks. Most people use the abdomen because there is a lot less muscle there. You take your other alcohol pad and clean the injection site. Then inject, push the plunger, hold for a count of five to prevent leakage, then remove."

"See, Dean," Betty said. "Nothing to it."

"Did it hurt, son," John asked curiously.

"No," Dean admitted honestly. He had hardly felt it.

"Any questions," Dr. Doyle asked, directing her question more to John than Dean.

"I'm good," Dean replied.

"Betty is going to leave you with a practice kit, so you can go over what we showed you. I'll be back to check on you a little while later. The dietician should be in a little while with breakfast. He'll go over Dean's meal plan with you. If there's anything you don't understand, feel free to page me," Dr. Doyle said kindly.

"Thanks, doc," both John and Dean said in unison.

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Later that day, Dean was starting to feel truly overwhelmed by all the information he was receiving. Different doctors were coming in and out of his room all day and telling him things he had to know and leaving him with more pamphlets.

First the dietician, who introduced himself as Peter, had visited and explained that they would start him on three injections per day and that there was a possibility that more could be added, depending on how he got along. Peter had explained to Dean how to count calories and carbohydrates, how to balance what he was eating with his insulin dose and how to calculate his insulin dose. True to John's prediction, Dean picked it up easily.

After Peter left, Dean received a visit from Dr. Lucy Moore. She introduced herself as a podiatrist, or foot doctor. Dr. Moore explained to Dean that sometimes, diabetics experienced reduced, or poor circulation to the feet and that, as a result, he may not notice a minor cut or scrape to the foot. If left untreated, it could lead to a major infection and treatment could include everything from antibiotics, up to and including amputation of the leg to prevent the infection from spreading to the rest of the body. Dr. Moore informed Dean that this could be prevented or delayed with good control of his blood sugar level and daily foot care. Dr. Moore spent the better part of an hour showing Dean how to properly wash them and inspect them for cuts. Dean learned that was even a certain way he was expected to cut his toenails. After checking to make sure that there was no questions from father or son, Dr. Moore left more pamphlets and instructions to page if there was something they didn't understand. Dean didn't look at them, he just added them to his growing stack.

Dr. Moore's visit had left Dean visibly shaken and although he tried to hide it, John could clearly tell that he was upset. Dean started to withdraw into himself and for the first time in a long time, John felt helpless. He didn't know what to do or say to his son to make him feel better. Somehow, he didn't think suck it up, that's an order, would work or be appropriateJohn did something he didn't normally do. He asked for help. He pushed the call button and asked for Betty. She would know what Dean was going through a lot better than he would.

Betty came immediately. Rather than lecturing Dean about preventing complications by taking care of himself, she spoke to him honestly about her own experiences of being a diabetic, telling him about her own fears and frustrations. When Dean started to come around and show that he was listening, she reminded him of the importance of looking after himself to avoid foot and other potential complications. Betty didn't want to scare Dean again, it was important that he know about them. She also pointed out to Dean that she was living proof that they were potential complications that _**could **_happen, but that didn't mean that they would happen. She was still healthy.

"Dean, medical science has come along way. Before the invention of insulin, most people with diabetes were dead within two years. They treated people by not letting them eat. Nowadays, most diabetics have long and healthy lives. Good diabetic control is essential. No one is perfect, you're going to have good days and bad. If you have a bad day by not following your diet, or missing an injection, the thing to remember is not to dwell on it, just get yourself back on track," Betty said as she finished up her speech.

"Thanks Betty," John said.

"No, problem. I hope what I said helped Dean," Betty said sincerely.

"Yeah," Dean admitted softly and added his own thanks. "You're not going to leave me with more pamphlets are you?"

Betty grinned. "As a matter of fact, I do have some." Dean groaned. "But these should be more your type," Betty explained as she handed them to Dean. He noticed that they were stories about diabetic athletes. They mentioned a lot of names Dean recognized and this put Dean slightly more at ease because he had watched them on TV and saw how active they were. They were the only pamphlets Dean touched all day.

Dean was really glad when Sam and Josh showed up. John excused himself and took Dr. Doyle up and the offer the couch and had a nap.

"Hey, Sammy, Josh," Dean greeted his visitors when the entered his room.

"How are you feeling, Dean?" Sam asked.

"Fine," Dean answered dismissively. He did feel fine physically, but inside, his emotions were still churning. He was determined not to let them show though. "When will they let me out of here, Josh? I want to go home."

"As soon as you can prove to the doctor that you can take care of yourself, Junior," Josh explained.

"Hey, Dean, what's this?" Sam asked curiously as he noticed Dean's practice kit.

"Nothing, Sammy," Dean said.

"It's a kit for practicing how to give injections," Joshua explained with a glance at Dean. It didn't appear to have been touched.

"Can you show me, Dean," Sam asked. He wanted to learn everything Dean did.

"Not right now," Dean said softly.

"Come on, please," Sam begged.

"I said _**no. **_Damnit Sammy, leave it alone," Dean snapped and he instantly felt bad at the hurt look on his brother's face.

"Sam," Joshua said. "I could really use a cup of coffee, would you mind going to get me one?"

"Sure," Sam said. He knew that Joshua was trying to get rid of him.

"How are you handling all this, Dean," Joshua asked seriously when Sam had left the room.

"I'm glad that this didn't happen to Sammy," Dean replied.

"I'm glad Sam is okay too, Junior, but that's not what I asked you."

"I'm fine," came Dean's standard reply.

"Your dad and Sam aren't here. Be honest with me, Dean," Joshua requested.

"I don't know what you want me to say. Talking isn't going to change anything," Dean said.

"No, but it may make you feel better."

"No chick flick moments, Josh, you know that."

Joshua gave up. Dean was as stubborn as his father. "Okay, I'll let it go for now," Joshua cautioned. "This discussion is not over though. Now, when Sam gets back, I want you to show me and Sam your injection technique."

"No," Dean said stubbornly.

Joshua decided it would be best to give up for now. When Sam got back, Joshua showed him, despite Dean's protests, how to administer an injection. He said that it was important they all learn it.

John showed up a couple of hours later. When Betty came by for Dean's next injection, she showed her displeasure that Dean hadn't practiced and he got another lecture about it being his disease, and that he had to be the one to manage it. Betty asked him to use the practice kit and mimic her actions while she prepared his injection. Dean was going to refuse, but one look at his father's face and he complied with the order. When Betty left, and after Dean had eaten, John made him practice some more. Even he and Sam did as well. When it was time for Dean's evening injection, Betty had him prepare the syringe. She had been working with diabetics for 15 year and she knew instinctively when a patient was ready and she didn't think Dean was, so she gave Dean his final injection of the day.

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When Dean awoke the next morning, he was feeling shaky again. He wondered if it was nerves or low blood sugar. He glanced at the glucose meter and lancets that Betty had left on the dresser. He debated with himself on whether or not to wait for the nurse or do it himself.

_You can do this,__Winchester. If you want to get out of here,__you have to, he told himself, trying to give himself a pep talk. _

Dean pushed the covers back, got out of bed and grabbed the supplies. He walked back and sat on the edge of his bed and loaded a lancet into the device, just like Betty had showed him the previous day. He held the device to the tip of his finger and hesitated. Could he do this? _Come on,__Dean, stop being such a wuss. _With that, he pressed the button before he could change his mind. He squeezed a drop of blood onto a strip and tested his level. It was low. Dean realized that he had no glucose tablets. He remembered Betty telling him that anything with sugar in it would do. He looked over and saw a bag of peanut M&M's his dad had been munching on. He grabbed a few and popped them in his mouth. Soon, he was feeling more steady and although he would never admit it, he was proud of himself. He decided then and there that he was always going to always carry some M&M's, they tasted much better than those stupid glucose tablets. He entered his reading into the diary that Betty had given him the previous day for keeping track of his blood sugar level, and couldn't wait to tell his nurse. Dean really liked Betty.

John, who had been dozing in the chair, awoke when he heard Dean get out of bed. He watched his son and was very proud of him too, as was Betty when she arrived to check on her patient.

Betty had Dean prepare this injection as well. It was a little more complicated since he had to mix insulins, but he handled it like a pro. He went to hand the syringe back to his nurse.

"No, you go ahead, just like we practiced," Betty instructed.

With a shaking hand, Dean swabbed his abdomen and held the syringe in his hand just over the site.

"The first one's the hardest, but I know you can do it," Betty encouraged.

Dean felt ashamed of himself for being such a wuss. He wasn't scared of needles. He had been on the giving and receiving end of stitches numerous times. He had even stitched himself up once, so he wasn't scared of poking himself. He didn't want to give himself that first needle because then all this became real. As long as the nurse was giving him the injections, he could pretend that this was all going to end. If he gave himself that first one, there was no going back, he would be forever chained to needles and insulin bottles. He would have to depend on something other than himself and he didn't like it one bit.

Dean laid the syringe down on his bedside table. "I… I ah, I can't," Dean muttered dejectedly. "I'm sorry, dad." Dean didn't want to look at his father and see the disappointment that he knew his dad must be feeling. Dean felt his father gently place a hand on his shoulder. He couldn't help but look his dad's way and he was surprised by the look of understanding his dad wore.

"It's okay, Dean. I know how you feel. I felt the same way before I left for 'Nam. When we were in basic training, it was just this far off place we knew nothing about. I couldn't wait to get over there and make a difference, like we were told. Then came the time for me to get on the plane. It all of a sudden became very real. I was going to a place where I could get killed," John said hoping he could help his son. John picked up the syringe and handed it to Dean. "Taking that first step was the hardest thing I ever did. I did it and I know you can do this."

Dean held the syringe and once again, held it over the injection site. With a grateful glance toward his father, Dean suddenly jabbed downward and he felt the needle enter his skin. He pushed the plunger, held for a five count and then pulled it out. He grinned and glanced toward his dad.

"Good job, Dean," Betty said, praising Dean.

"Did I ever tell you how proud I am of you, son?" John said. Dean lit up like a kid at Christmas at his father's words.

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Dean found that Betty was right. It did get easier. He barely hesitated when he gave himself his other two injections. Josh offered to stay with Dean that night so John could get a proper nights rest. John felt confidant going home that night. Leaving Sam and Dean to catch up, Joshua and John went to the cafeteria for something to eat.

"Dr. Doyle said that they should be releasing Dean in a day or so," John informed his friend.

"That's good. How are you doing?" Joshua inquired.

"I'm okay, no, really," John said as he saw the look of disbelief on his friend's face. "Dean's doing well."

"He is," agreed John.

"I will admit I am a bit nervous though, I mean, the doctors are right here if something happens," John admitted.

"You'll all be fine," Joshua said confidently. "Just don't dwell on what could happen."

"I want to get going soon. The boys are done in school soon, and I caught wind of a woman in white in Ohio."

"John, I wouldn't recommend it," Joshua cautioned swiftly.

"Why?' John asked.

"You're going to have to stay put for a while. Dean's going to need to be monitored closely for next few months. They have make sure he's receiving the proper dosages of insulin, and that his meal plan is working."

"Can't I just make an appointment in whatever town we're in?" John asked.

"No, it's important that Dean have some stability."

"I have to leave," John said. "You registered Dean in his real name, I have no insurance, Joshua. I have to leave town before the billing department catches up with me."

"John, don't worry about the bill, okay? I got you covered." Joshua said. "Don't start. If your pride is hurting, you can consider it a loan. I registered Dean in his own name because it's necessary that he be treated in one name and I felt that he would be most comfortable with his own."

"I _am_ going to pay you back," John insisted. "Why does he have to be treated in one name?"

"Think about it, John. This is on going. Dean's going to need prescriptions on a regular basis."

"Can't you write them?"

"I could, but what if I'm not around. I'm headed to Africa next week," Joshua reminded John. He had volunteered for Doctors Without Borders. "Not only that, but Dean's going to need regular checkups to monitor his blood sugar level. Not to mention follow up visits with other doctors. Diabetes can cause blindness, amputation, kidney failure, to name a few. Dean's going to need to see an eye doctor and a podiatrist for his feet, at least once a year, plus have his kidneys checked. What if he has a complication under the name Dean Smith? If you take him to another doctor, they would need to know about it. If you put him under Dean Jones, they may miss it. Give it a few months to make sure Dean's stable. Then, if you want to go back on the road, you can. Under his real name, then whatever doctor you took him to would be able to access his records."

John thought about what his friend was saying. It did make sense. His fake insurance cards were only good once. If Joshua had registered Dean under McGillicutty, John would have had to keep using it. How would he explain to the next doctor that his he knew his son had diabetes with no medical records to back it up? He didn't like it, but he understood it and he told Joshua that.

"I better get back. I want to say goodnight to Dean and Sam has school tomorrow," John said.

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The next day, Dean prepared and handled all three injections. Both Betty and Dr. Doyle were confidant that Dean would be able to take care of himself and he was scheduled for release the next day. Joshua said he would stick around for another couple of days putting all three Winchester's at ease though they were all left wondering what the future would bring.

TBC,

A/N: When I decided to write this story, the hardest thing was coming up with a reason that would make John settle in one spot. I hope Joshua's explanation made sense. Yes, John could still travel around the county, but diabetic supplies aren't cheap so that's where his nine to five job comes in. I am also trying to keep the medical facts as accurate as possible, but the information I received on calculating doses went completely over my head, so that is the one part I made up. Hope this chapter didn't disappoint.

Please keep the reviews coming. They help me write faster, Let me know what you think about this chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

Disclaimer: Still don't own any of it.

Thanks once again to the awesome Soar for the beta job. Any left over mistakes are completely my own. Once again thanks to Sinead-Conlan for betaing the medical facts.

Dean Winchester lay on his hospital bed, fully dressed, with his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He was waiting for his dad to get back with his release papers. Dean hoped that he would hurry up, he really wanted to go home.

"Excuse me," a voice called, startling Dean out his thoughts. "Jonathan Winchester, Jr?"

Dean looked up and saw yet another doctor entering his room. _What now, he thought warily._

"I'm John, sort of. I go by Dean, though," the young hunter explained.

Dr. King smiled. "Hi, Dean, I'm Dr. Sylvia King," she said introducing herself. "I'm on staff here as a psychologist. I'm sorry I didn't get to your sooner, I was out of town until yesterday, but I'm glad I caught you."

"I don't need a shrink," Dean huffed, his defenses kicking into high alert. If there was one thing Dean hated, it was talking about how he felt.

"I didn't say you did. I just wanted to say that learning you have diabetes is a big adjustment," Dr. King said. She could instantly tell that this was not going to be easy.

"How would you know?" Dean snapped.

"Personally, I wouldn't," Dr. King admitted honestly. "I stopped by to tell you that I run a diabetes support group. There are lots of kids in it around your age that do know exactly what you're going through, though, and a lot of them find it helpful."

"Forget it," Dean said instantly dismissing the idea. He did not want to sit around and talk about feelings with other kids either. He glanced toward the door. Where was his dad?

"It's a lot more than just talking. We do talk, but we also plan activities and there's overnight trips and everything. They all understand what you're going through and believe me, it can help."

"Hey, dude, you ready?" John Winchester's voiced filled the room.

"Thank God," Dean mumbled under his breath. "I was ready an hour ago," he said to his father.

"Hi, you must be John Sr," Dr. King addressed the elder Winchester.

"Yeah, and you are?"

"Dr. Sylvia King. I was just letting Dean know about the support group that I run for teenagers with diabetes."

"Forget it," Dean snapped firmly once more.

"Think about it. A lot of kids are resistant at first. I'm glad I ran into you as well, Mr. Winchester. I also have a support group for parents of diabetics. It offers support, of course, and other things like the latest breakthroughs and research information about diabetes. We have a meeting this Wednesday, and Dean, your group meets this Friday, after school, if you want to attend."

"Don't hold your breath," Dean mumbled softly, he didn't want his dad to hear him.

"I'll think about it," John said sincerely which caused his son to snap his head up and glare at his father. He couldn't be serious, could he?

"That's all I ask. It was nice meeting you, Dean, Mr Winchester. I hope I see you soon," Dr. King said as she walked out of the room.

"Dad, please tell me you're not serious," Dean begged.

"I don't know, Dean. Think about it. I mean, it helped you talking to Betty, right?" John asked.

"Yes, but I don't want to do this. You're not going to order me to, are you?" Dean asked fearfully.

John regarded his son. If they were going to be in town for a while, it might be good for Dean. John knew that his eldest didn't make friends easily and that was his fault. They moved around so much that Dean didn't see the point, but it was going to be a while before Dean could hunt again and John was _**not**_ looking forward to that conversation. "No, buddy," John said finally. "I won't order you on one condition."

"What is it?" Dean asked apprehensively.

"Just give it some real thought, okay?" John asked.

"Fine," Dean said trying to placate his father. "Can we go home now?"

"Soon. Dr. Doyle will be here in a bit, then we can leave."

"If you're talking about me, I hope it's all good," a new voice said.

"Hey, doc," Dean said hoping this would be quick.

Dr. Doyle gave Dean a final once over and then signed his release papers.

"Remember, Dean, John, feel free to call me if you have any questions or concerns," Dr. Doyle offered kindly.

"Thanks doc," Dean said, hoping he would never have to.

"John, you have Dean's prescriptions?" John nodded. "Dean, I'll see you for a check up in two weeks." Dr. Doyle said goodbye to the Winchesters and left the room.

John noticed that Dean didn't make a move toward the door like he had expected him to. "Everything okay there, buddy?" John asked gently.

"Fine," Dean replied, not really looking at his father, which alerted John to the fact that everything wasn't fine.

"It's okay to be nervous. I mean, the doctors have been helping you with your diet, telling you when to take your injections and check your blood sugar. I know you, Dean, and you're going to do just fine. Come on, let's go home and I'll make a big dinner for us," John said.

Dean looked at his father in amazement. "You're going to cook?" Dean asked.

John just grinned. "Come on, kiddo, let's go home," John said as he started walking toward the door. Dean didn't need to be told twice.

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John and Dean made it to the parking lot, but John had to bite his tongue. He wanted to ask Dean how he was feeling, but he knew it would cause Dean to snap at him. Joshua was right, this was going to take some getting used to.

Dean sat next to his dad and flipped through a couple of the pamphlets he'd been given. His dad had informed him that he had to read every one.

"Hey, dad," Dean said. "It says here that alcohol can lower your blood sugar level, does this mean I can have a beer with dinner?"

John took a quick glance at the pamphlet Dean was holding. He could see the title, Diabetes and Alcohol. Out of all the ones that Dean had, leave it to him to focus on that one.

"Nice try, Dean, now read the rest of it," John instructed.

"Beer and sweet wine may raise your blood sugar because they contain carbohydrates. Alcohol can cause you to over eat because it can stimulate your appetite and may interfere with diabetes medication," Dean read. "Guess not," he commented glumly.

"Good guess. Anything special you want for dinner?"

"I don't care as long as it's not hospital food," Dean said with a shudder.

John dropped Dean off at the apartment with Joshua, along with instructions to try to catch up on some school work, while he drove to the local mall to drop off Dean's prescriptions and go grocery shopping. The fridge usually only contained a half a bottle of ketchup and take out that had turned into a shining example of Darwinism.

If there was one thing John Winchester hated, it was grocery shopping. Usually, he filled the cart with canned spaghetti-o's, Lucky Charms, and frozen pizza or burgers. Now he actually had to shop. He needed to buy green things and other healthy items that the doctors had recommended. He spent a lot of time reading labels, checking for things like sugar content and the number of carbohydrates things contained, and discovered that a lot of things that claimed to be sugar free, weren't. When he left the store, he was not happy. The order had cost twice what he usually paid.

He then went to the pharmacy to pick up Dean's medications and when he saw the bill, his anger turned to worry. Dean's supplies were not cheap and John also had the added expense of buying a glucose meter for Dean to test his blood sugar, alcohol wipes, a sharps container that Dean would use for discarding used syringes and lancets, and there was one last thing that John knew Dean was going to pitch a fit over, but John had been told was necessary by Joshua, Dr. Doyle and Betty. Since they were sticking around for awhile, he couldn't use the fake credit card. Fortunately, John had one real credit card that he used for emergencies, and he was forced to use it now. With the card now maxed out, John knew that he was going to have to hustle some serious pool to pay for next months supplies, not to mention food and rent.

While John was out, Dean sat at the kitchen table trying to catch up on his schoolwork. Between the time he had missed with the flu and his time in the hospital, he had been out the better part of three weeks and was behind in everything. He had managed some work while he was in the hospital so he was able to catch up with some things, like math and physics, fairly quickly. He debated with himself about what he should tackle next, though. He glanced at his English book with disgust. He hated the subject.

His father had told him that while he'd been in the hospital, he'd received a call from his English teacher. Ms. Reynolds had been kind enough to exempt him from the James Joyce essay so he could concentrate on the test this week and the final exam next week. Dean really needed to do well on both tests if he wanted to pass. The thing was, poetry made no sense to him. Dean just didn't get all the symbolism and interpretations. Plus, most of it was just plain boring.

Dean looked at his watch. He couldn't wait for Sammy to get home, his dad should be picking him up right about now. Realizing the time, Dean knew that he should eat something. Peter had recommended that Dean have a snack between lunch and supper to prevent hypos. He looked in the refrigerator and found some cheese that hadn't gone bad yet, and a little routing around in the cupboards yielded a box of slightly stale crackers. He'd been given a weeks worth of supplies when he left the hospital so he checked his blood sugar, found it to be within normal ranges and sat down to eat his food. He was joined shortly by Joshua.

"Hey, Josh," Dean greeted the doctor warily. Was it a coincidence that the elder hunter showed up just as it was about time for Dean to check his blood sugar?

"Hey, Junior," Joshua said returning the greeting as he plugged in the coffee maker. "How's the school work coming? Need any help?"

"I'm good, Josh, thanks," Dean said, still waiting for the obvious.

"What are you working on?"

"Um, I just finished math and physics," Dean said and paused.

"I remember physics in high school. It was my worst subject. I was luc..."

"Just asked already," Dean suddenly blurted out. He couldn't take the waiting.

"Ask what?" Josh asked in confusion.

"Aren't you going to ask me if I tested myself?" Dean questioned.

"No," Joshua stated simply.

"Why not?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"Did you want me too?" Joshua asked.

"No," Dean said quickly.

Joshua knew, without a doubt, that John would have and he made a mental note to talk to his friend about the importance of trusting Dean to take care of himself. "What are you working on now?" Joshua asked changing the subject.

"Taking a short break," Dean explained. "It was normal by the way," he added.

Joshua gave Dean a small smile. "That's a good sign, Junior."

"Dean, you're back," an excited voice called behind them as Dean felt something barrel into him and start to squeeze him. Sam had seen Dean daily when he was in the hospital but it just wasn't the same. He hadn't slept well when Dean was in the hospital, there was just something about having his big brother sleeping in the bed next to his that comforted the youngest Winchester, a feeling that was shared by Dean as relief flooded the older boy.

John gazed fondly as he watched his boys greet each other as if they hadn't seen one another since Dean was admitted. He loved the fact that his boys were as close as they were.

"It's good to see you too, Sammy," Dean said as he returned Sammy's hug.

"Did you check your blood sugar, Dean?" John questioned his eldest.

"Yes, dad," Dean replied.

"Did he Joshua?" John asked his friend. Neither Joshua nor Sam missed Dean's scowl.

"Yes, John, it was normal," Joshua replied.

"Did you eat, Dean?" John asked as he picked up the book that Dean used to keep track of his readings and glanced through it.

"Yes," Dean said as a touch of irritation entered his voice. John once again looked to Joshua for confirmation.

Joshua looked toward his young friend with concern. The scowl had been replaced by a deep frown, he knew that Dean was feeling as if his father didn't trust him. He really needed to talk to John. He grabbed the bag with the pharmacy supplies, pulled out the insulin vials, since they had to be kept in the fridge, and handed the rest to Dean and instructed him to put the stuff in the bathroom. He told Dean to go take a break and watch TV with Sam.

"John, you have to trust him," Joshua cautioned strongly once the boys were out of earshot.

"What are you talking about?" John asked, oblivious to the fact that anything was wrong with Dean.

"This, just now. You asked Dean and then you asked me as if you didn't trust his answer."

"I do trust Dean, with my life," John stated firmly.

"I know you do, John, so do I, but you have to trust Junior to look after himself as well. Now before you say 'I do', ask yourself this. Why did you second guess him?" Joshua pointed out reasonably.

"I..." John trailed off, unable to put his thoughts into words.

"You just want Dean to be okay. I can understand that, John, he's your son, but you can't follow him everywhere. I mean, he goes back to school tomorrow, what are you going to do, call the school nurse every hour to make sure everything's fine?"

John suddenly found his hands very fascinating. He had actually thought of doing just that. "Guess not," he admitted softly. "I was thinking about keeping him home tomorrow, though."

"Why?"

"Give him a chance to get used to all this," John explained.

"The best thing for Junior is to get right back to his normal routine and that includes school."

"But not hunting. You know Dean's going to ask about it," John said as he ran his hand though his hair in frustration. He wished he could do something for his son.

"If it was baseball we were talking about, I would say sure. If he has a problem on the field, it's only a hit or run for the other team, not life or death. Give it a couple of months to make sure his blood sugar remains stable and then he can start hunting again."

"Joshua, I need to ask you something," John said seriously. Joshua had travelled all over the world with Doctors without Borders and had contacts in the hunter's world that John could only dream of. He had been thinking about this for a few days, wondering how to broach the subject. This seemed like a good a time as any. "Is there anything _**we**_ can do for Dean?"

"We are doing everything we can. Diet and insulin is the only way to treat type one diabetes," Joshua said, deliberately misunderstanding John. He knew what the other man was hinting at.

"That's not what I mean and you know it," John said, calling out his friend.

"Forget it!!!!" Joshua emphasized. "I will _**not**_ look for a supernatural cure for Dean. You know as well as I do that they never come without a price."

"I just don't want anything to happen to Dean," John admitted softly.

"I don't either. Let's see how Junior does with standard therapy before we go messing around in places we shouldn't," Joshua cautioned.

"Alright," John conceded for now.

"Did you get everything?" Joshua questioned, changing the subject.

"Yeah, but are you sure this is necessary?" John asked as he reached into his pocket and withdrew a small plastic package.

"Not a medical necessity, but very strongly recommended," Joshua answered.

"He's not going to like it," John replied.

Joshua just grinned, he knew John was right.

Joshua had some errands to run for his upcoming trip so he told John that he would be back later that evening. John started to prepare dinner. His boys didn't know it, but he was actually a very good cook, he just didn't have the occasion to do it very often. Most times, when he made dinner, it was just heating a frozen pizza, or mircowaving something. If they had home cooked meals, it was usually when they were staying at Pastor Jim's or Bobby's and it was cooked by them.

He soon called the boys to dinner. He desperately wanted to ask Dean if he had taken his injection, but he thought about Joshua's earlier words. Besides, he could always check the level in Dean's insulin bottles or count syringes. _Stop it,__John, he told himself._

When Dean sat down, he regarded his meal sceptically. There was broiled, skinless chicken breasts, brown rice, cooked carrots and a green salad. _Rabbit food, Dean thought. _By the end of the meal, though, Dean had changed his mind.

"That was great, dad," Dean admitted.

"Yeah, I didn't know you could cook, dad," Sam added.

John's pleasure at the boys' compliments showed on his face. "Thanks, boys. I used to cook all the time. I used to enjoy cooking for your mother," John said wistfully.

"Was mom a good cook too, dad?" Sam asked tentatively. It wasn't often that John mentioned Mary.

"Your mom was good at a lot of things, but no, Sam, cooking wasn't one of them. She could burn water."

"But, dad, I remember her homemade chocolate chip cookies. She made them for me all the time. I remember being the most popular kid in nursery school when I brought them in," Dean said as he recalled the memory.

"I baked those cookies, Dean. We just decided that we would let your mother take the credit," John explained.

"Can you make some now?" Sam asked. He had remembered Dean mentioning how good those cookies were on occasion.

"I don't have the ingredients. I was trying to buy healthy things," John said and added when he saw Sam's face fall, "I'll get it the next time I'm at the store."

"Thanks, dad," Sam said happily. "Dean, want to go watch a movie?" Sam asked. He could read his brother like a book, and even though he gave no outward sign, Sam could tell that Dean was getting uncomfortable, as he often did when someone spoke about their mom.

Dean gave his brother a grateful smile. "Sure, Sammy, just no chick flicks okay?" Dean said.

"Actually, Dean, I need to talk to you," John addressed his eldest. He might as well get this over with. Sam reluctantly made his way to the living room.

"I took my needle," Dean huffed. He was sure that what his dad wanted to see him about.

"I know you did, it's not about that," John said. "Betty, Dr. Doyle and Joshua all recommended this," John said as he handed Dean the plastic package he had bought earlier.

"What is it?" Dean asked curiously. He accepted the package from his dad and opened it. He found himself staring at a bracelet. It was a silvery gray color, and Dean recognized the medical insignia as the one that Betty had on her necklace. A cold feeling washed over Dean as he flipped the bracelet over and found what he was expecting, it said diabetes- type 1.

"Hell no," Dean protested fiercely, pushing the medic alert bracelet back across the table toward his dad.

"Dean," John said sharply. "It's just a precaution. What if you can't tell someone you have diabetes?"

"You can tell them, or Sam can," Dean reasoned. It was bad enough that he had diabetes, no way in hell was he advertising it.

"And if we aren't there?"

"You're always there," Dean stated confidently.

"Anything can happen, kiddo, you know that."

"But dad..."

"No buts, Dean. It's an order," John stated firmly and motioned for Dean to hold out his arm. Dean gave a long suffering sigh and complied, and John quickly fastened the bracelet around his son's wrist Dean gave it one last hateful glare and then dropped his hand to his side.

"You ready for school tomorrow, Dean?" John asked, quickly changing the subject.

"I guess. I got my math and physics homework done," Dean answered.

"Why don't you go take a break and watch a movie with Sammy? I'll do the dishes tonight and then after there done, I'll help you with your English."

"Sounds good," Dean said as he rose from the table and headed toward the living room. He stopped when he got to the door. "Thanks dad," he called softly over his shoulder.

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The boys' alarm clock went off early the next morning. Dean cursed and his hand snaked out from underneath the covers and hit the snooze button. He heard Sam get out of bed. _Geek boy, he thought affectionately. _Dean was used to sleeping until the last possible moment and then running into the kitchen and wolfing down some toast or Lucky Charms and heading out the door to school. Now he had to get up when Sam did. He had to check his blood sugar, take his injection, do his foot care and eat. There was no way he wanted to run the risk of having a hypo at school.

Dean rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom. He stopped at his dresser and grabbed his bag of M&M's. He was feeling really shaky this morning and he knew without a doubt that he was running low. The young hunter hadn't missed the fact that this was happening to him every morning. Was this normal? Maybe he should mention it to Josh. But if it wasn't normal, was he going to end up back in hospital? Maybe he shouldn't mention it to Josh. Maybe he should just go back to bed and pretend he didn't exist.

"Dean, you up?" He heard his father call. He answered, waited for Sam to finish in the bathroom and went about his morning routine. He then went to the kitchen and joined Sam, Joshua and his dad for breakfast.

"Dean," John said. "I have a couple of errands to run so I'll drop you boys off at school and either me or Joshua will pick you up." John was planning to go the pool hall to see what he could get. He had used the rent money to pay for the bill at the grocery store.

"'kay, dad," Dean said absently. He was still trying to decide whether to bring up his problem with Josh.

"Something on your mind, Junior?" Joshua asked as if he had read Dean's thoughts.

"Um, no, I mean, yes," Dean said. Dean still had the feeling that his father didn't trust him, so maybe by asking Josh, he could prove he was taking care of himself. "I always feel shaky when I wake up," he blurted out.

"This is happening every morning?" Joshua asked and continued when Dean nodded his head. "It's a common problem with a lot of diabetics because you can't eat when you're sleeping. Try eating a little more with your evening snack. You don't want to risk a hypo in your sleep so if that doesn't work, make sure you mention it to your doctor. You may need your insulin dosage adjusted."

"Thanks, Josh," Dean said sincerely.

"No problem, Junior."

Dean looked toward his father, as he finished eating. He could tell that that by the look on his dad's face that, even though he didn't say anything, he was proud of his son for taking the initiative and asking Joshua about a potential problem. This definitely made Dean glad he had asked. Dean finished eating, grabbed his school bag and followed his brother and father out the door after breakfast.

"Hey dad, can I drive?" Dean asked as his father.

"In 6 days," John said as he got into the car.

"What did I do?" Dean questioned in confusion. Whenever he got into trouble, his punishment was not being able to drive the Impala for 3 days.

"First, there was your little field trip in the hospital," John explained.

"Oh, that."

"Yes, that, and for disobeying a direct order," John added.

"When did I do that?" Dean asked as he wrinkled his brow in confusion.

John reached into his pocket and pulled out Dean's medic alert bracelet. "Didn't I say wearing this was an order?" John motioned for Dean to hold up his arm.

"I... I... it must have fallen off," Dean protested meekly as his dad once again fastened the hated object on his wrist.

"Good thing it just happened to fall off right over top of the garbage can, right? Oh and Dean, 9 days. Three more for the lie."

"But dad..."

"You want to try for 12?"

Dean turned toward the window. He crossed his arms in frustration and stared out of the window, brooding for the whole drive. He barely mumbled a goodbye when they dropped Sam off at the middle school. When he got to the high school, Dean jumped out of the car, slammed the door and was about to storm off when he heard his father call after him.

"12 days, Dean, and I suggest that you lose the attitude or I'm going to skip 15 and go for a whole month."

"Yes, sir," Dean said with no real sincerity.

John watched his eldest head into school and wondered if he might have been too hard on the boy. _No John, he told himself. You would have done the same thing if he hadn't gotten sick._

Dean made his way to his locker and tossed in his backpack and grabbed his books for his history class. Physically, Dean felt fine, but his emotions were all over the place. He was apprehensive about being away from Josh and his dad. He was just glad he didn't have to deal with an injection while he was here at school. What worried him most was having a hypo. He did not want that to happen so Dean pulled out a bag of M&M's and started munching on them on the way to his first class and in between all his classes.

Dean stopped in the bathroom on the way to lunch. He may not have had to take insulin, but he still had to check his blood sugar. He knew he had overdone it with the M&M's when his reading showed high. _God,__I'm such a screw up, he thought. What now? Do I skip lunch and risk a hypo, but if I eat, I could send my blood sugar higher. _

Dean decided to compromise. He would eat half his lunch. He arrived at the cafeteria with the bag of lunch his dad had given him and looked for an empty table. Dean ignored the thermos of vegetable soup and just ate the turkey sandwich. He would save his apple and eat it a bit later, depending on how he was feeling.

Dean's day had just gotten worse after that. His first class after lunch was English. Ms. Reynolds was handing back the essays.

"Hey, Winchester," said the boy who sat beside Dean.

"What do you want, Adam?" Dean asked warily. Adam Nichols always had some comment to make.

"Can you tell me how to be a hypochondriac so I get out of work too?"

"I'm surprised you know what the word means," Dean countered.

"You don't look all that sick to me," Adam said.

"I didn't realize you were worried about me," Dean replied with mock sincerity.

"Well don't get to close to me, I don't want to catch what you got," Adam remarked snarkily.

"I wouldn't unless you showered, so no worries there," Dean snarked back.

"Mr. Winchester, Mr. Nichols, is there a problem?" Ms. Reynolds called.

"No, Ms. Reynolds," Adam said and faced front.

After class, Ms. Reynolds called Dean back and reminded him of his test the next day, telling him that he was in real danger of failing the class if he didn't do well. This put Dean in a bad mood. His day kept getting worse. His lab partner in science class had caught site of the medic alert bracelet and not knowing much about diabetes, asked the teacher for a new partner in case diabetes was contagious. When the teacher denied the request, Brian refused to touch anything Dean did. Brian, who was also in Dean's health class, asked the teacher if it was contagious and his teacher, who never missed an opportunity to teach, held an impromptu lecture on diabetes. Thanks to Brian, by the end of the period, the whole class knew that Dean had this disease and in his next class, two others had called him a junkie with a drug habit. After his last class, Dean practically ran out of the school and into the Impala.

"How was school?" John asked.

"Just great," Dean muttered sarcastically.

"Did anything happen?"

"No," Dean said quickly.

John knew something was up with his eldest. "Dean," he said in a warning tone.

"Just drop it, okay. I want to go home," Dean said, his voice beginning to waiver. _God,__Dean, stop being such a baby. Since when do you care what those idiots think?_

John decided to let his son be. When Dean got like this, it was best to leave him alone. John picked up Sam and Dean barely acknowledged his brother. When they got to the apartment, Dean stormed up the steps ahead of John and Sam. He went directly to his room and John heard the door slam from outside the apartment.

"Dad, is Dean okay?" Sam asked with concern.

"I'm sure he will be, Sammy. He just had a tough day. It's not easy to get back into it when you miss almost three weeks."

"John, did something happen with Junior?" Joshua asked, adding his concerns.

"I'm not sure. He wouldn't talk about it," John said worriedly.

"Want me to talk to him?" Joshua offered.

"You can try, but I don't think it would do any good," John said.

Joshua walked down the hall to the boys' room. He knocked softly, so as not to startle Dean. When he got no answer, he walked in anyway. In the kitchen, Sam made a motion to go follow the older hunter.

"Sam, stay here," John ordered. "Let Joshua talk to your brother."

"Did something happen to him at school?" Sam asked with concern.

"I'm not sure, Sammy," John admitted honestly. "I think he's probably just worried about his test tomorrow."

"I think it's more than that, Dad. Do you think the kids were picking on him?" Sam asked.

"Don't worry about Dean, Sammy. He's tough. If they were, it wouldn't bother him."

"He's not as tough as he pretends to be," Sam said softly. He glanced toward the door to his and his brother's bedroom. It wasn't long before Joshua came out and Sam took the opportunity to slip inside.

"Any luck, Josh?" John asked.

"Joshua," the elder hunter corrected. "Your son gets away with it, you don't, and no, he wouldn't say anything."

"Something happened. Sammy thinks the other kids were picking on him."

"He may be right. The only time Dean spoke was to give me some rather colorful suggestions as to what I could do with this," Joshua said as he held up Dean's medic alert bracelet. Joshua had debated with himself as to whether or not to tell John that Dean had removed the offending piece of jewellery. He didn't want to get Dean in trouble with his dad, but it would be much worse if something happened to Dean and he wasn't wearing it. Joshua was surprised when he looked at John and saw not anger but defeat.

"Tell me what to do, Joshua. I don't like it when my boy's hurting. How do I fix it?" John said dejectedly.

Joshua's heart went out to his friend. He would give anything to be able to supply John with an easy answer. "I wish I could tell you, but I can't. Medically, I can tell you anything you want to know, but emotionally, I can't help you. Have you thought anything more about the support group for parents that Dr. King mentioned? The people there will know exactly what you're going through. They would have more answers than I would. I'll stay with the boys if you want to go."

John's brow wrinkled in concentration as he thought about what Joshua was saying. Maybe it would be worth checking out. It certainly couldn't hurt.

"Maybe I will," John conceded. He would do anything for his boys.

"Who knows, maybe if you go, you can convince that stubborn son of yours to attend. I think it would be good for him," Joshua added.

"It would probably be easier to convince you to let me call you Josh," John said wryly.

"Your son did, so who knows. Sam told me you're a good cook and since I'm leaving tomorrow, any chance of a home cooked meal?"

John gave a true smile. "Sure, I owe you."

Joshua wandered off to go over some notes for an article he was writing. John heard a thump from the boys' bedroom and was about to go investigate when he heard Sammy start to giggle. He stopped. John grinned again. Sammy could always cut through Dean's bad moods. He prepared dinner and just as he was about to call the boys, he saw his eldest enter the kitchen. John waited to see what his son was up to and he was really proud when Dean opened the refrigerator and grabbed his bottle of insulin before disappearing into the bathroom. Whatever had happened at school that day, John was glad that Dean did appear to be taking care of himself.

After dinner was eaten and the kitchen cleaned up, Dean excused himself to go study. He was still extremely anxious about his test the next day.

John took Joshua up on his offer and attended the support group meeting. He was surprised at how much it did help him. The other parents shared his fears and concerns. When John mentioned to one woman that today had been his son's first day back at school, she told him all about how her daughter had come home crying her first day back because her boyfriend had dumped her, not wanting a sick girlfriend. John could only imagine what the kids had said to Dean. John shocked himself by opening up about trying to get Dean to wear the medic alert bracelet. He learned that it was a common problem for most of the parents there. John felt Dean would benefit from attending as well, and he debated with himself all the way home as to whether or not to make it an order. The only conclusion he came to was not to do anything for now.

At home that evening, John helped John Dean study and the next morning, Joshua said goodbye to the boys and John. John was nervous because now, he was on his own. Joshua drove the boys to school, in order to spend a little more time with them. He had caught sight of the medic alert bracelet on Dean's wrist and he wondered what John had said to him. Whatever it was, he hoped it had gotten through to the middle Winchester, but Joshua had his doubts. Dean was as stubborn as John.

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Dean's morning passed without incident and after his science class he headed towards the bathroom. He had English just after lunch and he was on edge about his test. He had spent the whole previous evening studying, but he still didn't feel prepared. In the bathroom, he checked his blood sugar and found that he was still running a little high from yesterday. Maybe he could skip lunch and go to the library and get some more studying in. Then, after his test was over, he could wolf down his sandwich and a few M&M's before heading to gym class. He hoped that the physical activity would get him into normal ranges because he wasn't sure how long his dad would hold off asking him about it. Deciding on a course of action, Dean headed towards the library.

20 minutes into the 45 minute English period, Dean was seriously regretting his decision. At about 10 minutes into class, he felt a bit shaky, and now he was feeling slightly dizzy and knew his blood sugar was dropping low. He had M&M's in his bag but he couldn't very well reach into it in the middle of a test, his teacher might think he was cheating. He glanced at his watch, still 22 minutes left. Ms. Reynolds let students leave when they were done but he still had half of his test left to go. _God, Dean, could you be any more of an idiot, he berated himself. _Right now, it was fail the test or have a full blown hypo in the middle of his English class. Not really any choice. Dean put his pen down, stood up, took a deep breath to steady himself against the dizziness and slowly walked to the front of the room and handed in his test. Ms. Reynolds frowned at the young man before her. There was no way he could have finished it. She wanted to ask him if he was all right, but he left before she had the chance. If Dean had been thinking clearly, he would have realized that all he would have had to do was mention his problem and Ms. Reynolds would have been more than happy let him get the M&M's out of his bag.

Dean grabbed them as soon as he got out of the classroom. He finished off what was left in the bag and went to his locker and grabbed his lunch and quickly ate the sandwich and apple. He saw another thermos of soup, but he figured he should save that for after gym class.

Dean was still feeling anxious, but he chalked that up to having to tell his dad that he had failed his English test, after all, the M&M's had always worked before. He got to gym class and when he was getting changed, he realized that he had never noticed just how hot the locker room was and he was sweating when he entered the gymnasium. He was also feeling, well he wasn't sure exactly how he was feeling, but it wasn't right. They were playing basketball and Dean took his place on the court. Five minutes later, he missed an easy pass because his hands were shaking and he couldn't grip the ball. He picked it up and tried to remember what end he was supposed to be headed toward.

"Hey, Dean you alright?" the kid standing next to him asked.

"Fine," Dean answered stubbornly.

"Winchester," the coach yelled. "You gonna play or stand there and day dream."

Dean was about to start dribbling the ball when it fell from his hand. The next thing he knew, the room stated spinning rapidly. All he heard was the sound of the coach calling his name and running toward him before he gave in to the approaching darkness and passed out cold.

TBC

Want more? Please read and review and let me know.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

A/N A big thank you to Soar for all her hard beta work and Sinead-Conlan for help with the medical information. Any left over mistakes are completely my own.

The first thing Dean became aware of was a scattering of voices. He could hear a female voice saying his name and asking if he was okay. He could hear his coach yelling instructions, about what Dean wasn't sure. He felt a hand on his shoulder and someone giving him a gentle shake and once again, a female voice spoke.

"Dean, are you with us?" the female said.

Dean figured he'd better answer, but when he tried, all he heard was a soft grunt. _Real suave there, __Winchester, he thought to himself._

"Dean." He heard the voice again, this time more insistent.

He opened his eyes and looked around. He could see the school nurse and his coach hovering over him. The other students were down at the other end of the gym and Dean figured that was what the coach had been yelling about. He knew everyone was still staring at him though and he wanted to disappear. _Could this day get any worse?_

"Dean," the voice repeated once more. This time, there a heavy dose of concern.

_Answer her, you idiot. _"I'm, ah, I'm okay," Dean stammered. _I think_, he added to himself.

Both the coach and nurse gave a small sigh of relief that Dean had come around.

"What happened?" he said as he tried to get up. He felt a hand restrain him.

"Easy, Dean. I want you to lie still for a moment longer. Your blood sugar bottomed out and you passed out," Nurse Lori Simpson explained.

"I want to..." That was as far as Dean got before a wave of nausea hit him and he rejected everything in his stomach, vomiting right there on the gym floor. _Spoke too__soon. This day can and just__did get a whole lot worse. _Dean could feel all eyes on him and he really wished that his earlier wish to disappear had come true. He wanted to scream 'stop staring at me' to everyone in the room and the worst part about it was that Dean had the feeling that he wanted to cry. _Where the hell did that come from? I haven't__cried since I was four. God, I really am a wuss. _

"It's okay, Dean," Nurse Simpson said gently. "It's a common side effect of the glucose shot."

"It's all right, Dean," the coach said, adding his reassurances. "No harm done."

_Easy for you to say, you're__not the one who fainted and puked in front of everyone. _

"Do you feel like you could get up?" Nurse Simpson asked.

Dean wanted to get up and run away and never come back, he was beyond humiliated. "I think so," was all he said.

"Slowly, Dean," Lori said and Dean complied. He sat up and at once was stuck by a wave of dizziness. "Your blood sugar's still too low." Nurse Simpson pulled out some glucose tablets and instructed Dean to swallow them. The shaky feeling stopped long enough for him to get to his feet and for the nurse and the coach to assist him to the nurse's office, which fortunately, wasn't far.

Once there, Dean sat on the cot and allowed the nurse to check his blood sugar. She still wasn't happy with it and handed Dean a ginger ale.

"I want you to drink this," Lori instructed. "Do you still feel nauseous?"

"A bit," Dean admitted truthfully.

"The ginger ale should help raise your blood sugar as well as settle your stomach. Is one of your parents home? I want to have one of them come pick you up," Lori said as she regarded her patient. She was surprised when a look of sadness registered across Dean's face, but it was gone so quick that it left Lori wondering if she had imagined it.

"I think my dad is," Dean said softly, staring at his hands, not looking at the nurse. "If he's not there, you can call his cell." _Dad's gonna be pissed. _

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John Winchester was not a happy man. He had spent the morning at the local pool hall, trying to raise money for the rent. The problem was that they had been in town for close to two months and everyone there knew him. They all knew his skill and no one would play him for money. If a newbie came in, he was warned before John had a chance to ask him or her for a game. There was a bar in town, but John had avoided it because its patrons didn't look like they would take too kindly to being hustled, but he had no choice. He avoided hustling, instead only playing to win so no one would feel cheated. He played two games and won $100, but after gassing the Impala, he came home with $58. John debated whether or not to send Dean to the pool hall. The kid was getting good, he had almost beat John a few times.

_I wonder how he's getting along, maybe I should call and see. Stop it John, he told himself. You gave permission for all his teachers to be told, so they all know what to look out for. If there's a problem,__they'll call you._

_Ring Ring._

John jumped when he heard the phone ring. He picked it up, hoping for a telemarketer, he could use a new credit card. "Hello," he said.

_"Hello, is this John Winchester?"_

"Who's asking?" He wanted to know before he identified himself. You never could be too careful.

_"My name is Lori Simpson, I'm the school nurse at Nor..."_

"Dean! Is he all right?" John said frantically, cutting her off. She could only be calling about one thing.

_"He will be, Mr. Winchester. He had a problem in gym class. His blood sugar dropped too__low and he passed out."_

"He what? He's all right though, right?" John said as he wished he could beam himself to Dean's school and make sure he was okay.

_"He's still a little shaky,__but I gave him a glucose shot__and a ginger ale. He should be feeling better soon. I'm calling to see if you can pick him up?"_

"I'll be there in 20 minutes," John stated firmly. He dropped the phone without saying goodbye and took off out the door. He made it in 10.

John ran into the school, stopped a passing student and got directions to the nurse's office. He wasn't sure what to expect when he got there, but he was relieved to see Dean sitting up. He was pale, but otherwise, he seemed fine.

"Hey, buddy, are you okay?" John addressed his son softly.

"Fine," Dean mumbled. "Can we go home?'

John looked to the nurse who nodded. "He may still feel a little nauseated, it's one of the side effects of the glucose shot that I gave him. If that happens, crackers and ginger ale should help," Lori offered.

John gave her his thanks and assisted Dean to the car. He put the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot.

"Hey, dad, where are we going?" Dean asked as his father turned left instead of right.

"I'm taking you to the diabetic clinic at the hospital," John stated.

"But my appointment isn't for another week and a half," Dean protested.

"I still want you checked out. Something's not right, Dean. There were enough calories in your lunch that you should have gotten through gym class okay."

Dean looked at his father sheepishly. He knew that he had to admit what he'd done. His only consolation would be that his dad was mostly likely going to kill him and he wouldn't have to face school tomorrow. "I didn't eat it," he said softly.

John pulled the car over to the side of the road. He had a feeling this wasn't going to be a conversation that he could have while trying to keep the car on the road.

"Excuse me," John said in disbelief. He felt his temper growing. Dean knew how important it was to look after himself.

"I didn't eat it," Dean repeated. "Not at lunch time, anyway."

"Want to tell me why?"

_Not really. _"I didn't want to have a hypo yesterday," Dean said addressing the floor mats. He knew he had screwed up big time and he couldn't look at his father.

"What's that got to do with you not eating today, and I hope you have a really good answer or you're gonna be doing an awful lot of walking this summer."

"I was... I was, uh, never mind, it's stupid. Just punish me and get it over with," Dean said dejectedly.

"Nice try. What's going on in that head of yours, son? How does you being worried about hypo's yesterday translate into you not eating today? If anything, I would have thought that you would have over eaten."

"I screwed up. Can we just go home?" Dean pleaded.

Something clicked in John's mind and he felt his temper dissipating as he regarded his son, Dean was clearly upset and John hated it when his boys were hurting. "That's it, isn't it? You overate yesterday and you thought that by skipping lunch today, you could get your blood sugar back down to normal ranges," John guessed. "Dean," John prompted him when his eldest didn't answer right away.

"School's just a stupid, boring, waste of time. Why do I have to go if I'm going to be a full time hunter?" Dean snapped.

"That little outburst makes me think your English test didn't go so well, am I right?" Dean remained silent, confirming John's suspicions. "Talk to me, Dean, I can't help if I don't know what's going on." John said giving his own plea.

"I screwed up," Dean reiterated.

"I gathered that, kiddo, now tell me what happened. It's an order, Jonathan Dean."

Dean sighed. He wanted to get out of the car and make a run for it. He hated admitting to his dad that he was a screw up. _Load of good that would do. I'd probably have another hypo and pass out. _

"Count of three, you don't start talking and you'll be old and grey before you drive this car again," John said when, once again, Dean didn't start talking.

"One."

Dean remained silent. He didn't know where to start.

"Two."

_Say anything,__you dumbass, he's serious._

"Th..."

"I ate too many M&M's yesterday," Dean blurted out.

"Okay, what happened next?"

"My blood sugar's been high since yesterday, and when it was still high at lunch, I thought I would be okay if I delayed eating it," Dean said.

"Keep going," John encouraged his son. He knew Dean would clam up at once if given the chance.

"It wasn't because of my blood sugar that I didn't eat right away. I wanted to get a bit more studying in. I figured I would be okay until after the test."

"But part way through, you felt yourself running low. Did you tell your teacher you felt yourself having a hypo? I can't imagine her having a problem with you getting some sugar," John wondered, although he had a feeling he knew the answer. Dean's silence clued him in. "You didn't ask, did you? You just handed your test in and hightailed it out of there," John stated.

"Yeah, I'm a failure," Dean said and that awful, humiliating, crying feeling came back.

"Dean, listen to me," John said as he turned toward his son and cupped his chin so that Dean had to look him in the eye. "You are _**not**_ a failure. You failed a test, big difference."

"But there's no way I can pass English, not even if I get a perfect grade on next week's final," Dean said trying to pull out of his father's grip. John refused to let him.

"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it. I just want to know why you felt you couldn't say anything to your teacher."

"I didn't want anyone to know," Dean admitted.

"She already did, buddy," John said. "I asked your principal to inform your teachers after you started to back to school. I wanted them to be aware of potential problems."

"I'm sorry, dad," Dean said softly.

"Remember Betty's words. If you have a bad day, don't dwell, start fresh the next day and that's what we're going to do," John said. "Now, you did show bad judgement so you know what that means. Is there anything you want to say before I give you your punishment?"

Dean held up his arm. "I left my bracelet on," he said hopefully.

John let out a chuckle. "That's good, kiddo, and for that, I'll only add three days instead of six."

"Thanks dad. Can we go home now?"

"No, you're still getting checked out. I've seen ghosts that have got more color than you," John said as he pulled the Impala back out on the highway and headed toward the hospital.

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John walked into the apartment and tossed his keys on the table. They had stopped and picked Sam up at school on their way home from the clinic. Dean had received a check up and fortunately, there was no permanent damage done. He had also gotten two lectures about the importance of diabetic control and John had gotten a bill for the check up, which was the last thing he needed. Dean was in a foul mood by the time he got home and not even Sam could cheer him up. He stomped to his room and slammed the door so hard that the sound reverberated all through the small apartment. John knew that Dean's day had been hard enough, so he decided to let it go this once and instead, he sent Sam in with Dean's afternoon snack, the doctors had advised him to eat something soon. Sam wandered back out to the kitchen afterwards, there was something he wanted to ask his dad.

"Hey, dad," Sam said addressing his father.

"Yeah, kiddo, what's up?"

"The Tuesday after school lets out is my friend, Larry Fisher's, birthday and he is having a birthday party and I really want to go."

"How late is this party?" John asked his youngest.

Sam felt a glimmer of hope that his dad hadn't said no right away. "It's supposed to go on until about 11. Larry's parents invited me to come to supper with them and the party starts at 8."

"Are Larry's parents going to be there?"

"Yes," Sam said. He knew if he said no, then so would his father. He actually had no idea if they were going to be or not, but Larry had said that his older brother, Ryan, would be there. That should be okay because look how responsible Dean was. "Please, dad, there's no hunt, nothing bad is gonna happen. I'll put a flask of holy water in my backpack with some salt if you want," Sam begged.

"You can go," John said, giving Sam his permission.

"But dad, I re... I can go?" Sam asked in shock.

"Yes, on two conditions."

"Anything," Sam said sincerely.

"One, you call me when you leave the restaurant and get to Larry's house so I know where you are. Two, I know that some parties get out of control, so you are to call me immediately if that starts to happen."

"It's just a simple house party, dad," Sam said. His dad could be so paranoid sometimes. "We're gonna hang out in Larry's basement and listen to music and munch on junk food."

"You'd be surprised at what could happen, Sammy," John warned.

"I promise, dad, on both things," Sam said. "Thanks dad." Sam gave his father a rare hug.

"Want to help me make dinner?" John said. He and Sam had been at odds so much lately that John was enjoying the fact that they were getting along lately. John had spent so much time worrying about Dean lately that he missed his youngest.

"Sure. Can we have tacos?" Sam said naming Dean's favourite food.

John smiled. He knew Sam was trying to cheer Dean up. "Sounds good," John agreed as he reached over and ruffled Sam's hair.

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"Hurry up, Dylan, he's coming," Mark Read called to his friend Dylan Berrisford from his lookout point.

"I'm almost done. There, got it," Dylan answered his friend as he slammed the locker door shut and he and Mark moved to stand in front his own open locker across the hall.

Dean walked around the corner. He was not in the best of moods. So far, the other students hadn't said much to him, but they were avoiding him like he had the plague. He was coming from the cafeteria, where he made sure to eat all his lunch this time, and he stopped by his locker to pick up his English book. He caught sight of Dylan and Mark and his hunter's instincts warned him that they were up to something. He just wished they would do it and get it over with.

For the life of him, Dean couldn't figure out what Dylan had against him. The only thing he could figure was that the gym coach had encouraged him to try out for the baseball team after seeing him play in gym class. Dylan had tried out and didn't make it and Mark was Dylan's puppet, he did what Dylan said. Dean just usually tried to avoid them, he didn't want trouble, John Winchester had a zero tolerance policy for his eldest getting into fights at school and Dean was already banned from the Impala for 15 days. Getting caught fighting would most surely mean he's be banned until he graduated high school. _If you graduate high school,__you stupid idiot. You can't if you fail English, Dean corrected__himself._

He didn't want to be late, so he didn't give them a second thought and opened his locker. He suddenly found himself up to his ankles in a white, powdery substance. Dean soon realized that it was sugar and he found himself blushing bright red when Dylan and Mark started laughing, as did a couple of other students in the hallway.

"Very funny," Dean ground out through clenched teeth. At this point, he was seriously contemplating dropping out. He hated school.

"Just looking out for your well being, Winchester," Dylan said, still laughing.

"I'll bet," Dean said as he brushed sugar off his English book. He grabbed the rest of his books, brushed them off as best he could and stuffed them into his backpack. He was never coming back to his locker again.

"Just a joke, Winchester," Mark said, adding his own taunt. "Don't puke on us, okay."

"Why don't you leave your locker open in case I need to, Read," Dean said in a forced tone. He was determined not to let these idiots get to him. He grabbed his backpack and stalked off down the hall.

Dean figured that English was going to be the worst part of his day, but to his surprise, it was during this class that his day started to improve. After class, his teacher called him back and informed him that she was going to give him a chance to finish his test. She said she had read about hypoglycaemia and understood that it can cause confusion, and it was possible he might not have been thinking clearly when he handed in his test, instead of telling her he was having a problem. Ms. Reynolds told him he could complete it during his study hall period. In physics, Dean's teacher handed back their assignments. Dean's essay on Heisenberg's uncertainty principle had scored a 94, it was the highest in the class. _Wonder what I would have scored if I put some effort into it. _He hid his English text behind his physics book and gave himself a quick review. At least he now had a fighting chance to pass. Study hall was Dean's last class and his mood had improved considerably by then. He had even formulated a plan to get revenge on Dylan and Mark in a way that wouldn't get him in trouble. He made his way out the front of the school pulling an apple out of his bag and began to munch on it as he waited for his dad.

John wasn't sure what kind of mood his son was going to be in, so he was surprised when Dean got in the car and greeted John with no sigh of the grump he'd been in that morning.

"Hey, dad, guess what?" Dean said and he swallowed the last of his apple and threw the core out the window, where it landed in a nearby trash bin.

"You seem to be in a good mood," John said.

"Ms. Reynolds let me finish my test. I think I might have passed."

"That's great, kiddo. Did you thank her?"

"'Course," Dean answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I also got 94 on my physics essay. It was the highest in the class."

"Hey, maybe I got a future Nobel prize winning physicist sharing the car," John said proudly.

"No way," Dean protested. "I'm going to be a full time hunter, just like you."

"You're going to make a fine hunter, Dean," John said and once again, his voice filled with pride.

A big grin lit up Dean's face at his father's rare complement. "When are we going to find our next hunt? I'm ready to move on," Dean asked.

_Damn it,__why'd he have to__ask that now. _"Um, it's so close to the end of the school year, so we'll talk then," John said non-committally. _Wimp. _

"'Kay," Dean said accepting his dad's answer, much to John's relief. "Can we pick up Sammy and go out to eat? It's my treat," Dean offered.

John knew this was Dean's way of apologizing for being so cranky the last couple of days. "Sure, buddy, we'll swing by the apartment so you can grab your insulin," John said in agreement.

"No need," Dean said as he reached down and grabbed his bag. He rooted around in the over stuffed backpack for a minute and pulled out a small, black case, that to John, looked like a CD holder. "Josh gave me this before he left. It's an injection kit. Betty said I should always have some insulin on me just in case."

John looked over and saw that Dean had the kit open. There was what looked like a penholders holding two insulin syringes. Large elastics held the insulin vial and Dean's glucose meter. There was even a spot for his lancets and test stripes. "He also gave me a larger one that holds enough supplies for a few days once we hit the road," Dean added as he zipped up the kit and stuffed it back into his knapsack.

"That was nice of him," John said trying to keep the bitterness out his voice. If there was one thing John Winchester hated, it was charity. If Dean needed an injection kit, why hadn't Joshua told him and he would have picked it up with Dean's supplies. The fact that he really couldn't afford it never crossed his mind.

If Dean noticed, he didn't say anything, he just asked his dad if they could go for Chinese. John agreed and that's exactly what they did. Dean paid for dinner and after eating, John wasn't quite ready for the day to end. He figured that $58 wasn't going to go far, so he decided to spend it on his boys. After dinner, John treated the boys to a movie and then they went to the arcade, where Sam whipped their butts at air hockey.

John, Dean and Sam had a great day and their upbeat mood continued throughout the week. Sam didn't want anything to jeopardize his chances of going to Larry's party, so he made an extra effort get along with his father. Dean's plan to get revenge on his tormenters went off perfectly. With his top notch investigative skills, Dean soon discovered how Dylan had gotten his locker combination, he had bribed a boy that worked as a messenger in the school office. Dean tracked him down and got the combination for Dylan's locker. It wasn't hard because Dylan had not come through on his promise. Dean also managed to find out that Dylan had a phobia of spiders. His plan had been to fill Dylan's locker with plastic spiders, then Bobby had called to see how Dean was doing and when Dean spoke to him and mentioned his plan, Bobby had given him an even better idea.

Acting on Bobby's advice that there was nothing worse than waiting for something you knew was coming, Dean revised his plan. He drew a crude picture of a spider on a piece of paper and wrote revenge is sweet and stuffed it in the air vents of Dylan's locker. Dylan wondered how Dean had figured out his greatest fear and spent the whole week waiting for Dean to plant a spider somewhere. He couldn't stand the waiting and confronted Dean a few times. Dean put on this big innocent act and said he had no idea what Dylan was talking about. Dylan managed to embarrass himself with his paranoid ramblings far worse than Dean ever could and Dean made a mental note to thank Bobby.

John was extremely proud of Dean when, a couple of days later, his eldest came to him and said that Josh's advice wasn't working, he was still feeling really shaky in the mornings. John immediately called Dean's doctor and she adjusted Dean's insulin dose and that helped. He made sure Dean knew how proud of his eldest he was by removing 3 day from his punishment. He was glad to see his boys so happy.

They finished up the school year and Dean managed a B on both his English test and final which raised his overall grade to a C, allowing him to pass. The rest of his grades were mostly C's, and B's and an A in math and physics. Sam had scored straight A's. John was glad his boys were doing well, but then of course, reality smacked him in the face.

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The boys' last day of school coincided with the end of the month, which meant that the rent was due in a day. John had driven to the next town in the hopes of finding a pool hall. He had managed to make enough to pay about $300, but the manager of the pool hall had banned him when a fight almost broke out. He could pay the rent, but Dean had come to him and said that he was running low on test strips, Dr. Doyle had recommended that Dean check his blood sugar 5 or 6 times a day, the strips came in boxes of 50, so a box was going to last about 9 or 10 days. He was also running out of groceries and John knew that in a couple of weeks, Dean was going to need his supplies refreshed. John had no idea where the money was going to come from.

He sat in the kitchen one night going over the bills. Dean needed three kinds of insulin and they ran at almost $75 a bottle, so that was $225 dollars just for insulin alone. A box of 100 syringes cost him $24.99, which John was going to have to buy every month. The strips for his glucose meter were $47.59 for 50 strips. John quickly calculated that he would need at least three boxes of those every month costing him at least $142.77. The lancets were $9.96 for 200 hundred, and the alcohol wipes were around the same price for a box of 100. At least he didn't have to pay the $64.95 for a glucose meter, or the $19.99 for the medic alert bracelet, or the $15 deposit he paid on the sharps container, when it was full, all he had to do was return it to the pharmacy and they would give him a new one. Since the alcohol wipes and lancets also lasted about a month, John came to the conclusion that he was going to need a minimum of $412.68 a month to meet Dean's medical needs, and that didn't even include his dietary needs. John was looking at least another $200 per month, bringing the total to $612.68. It was more than twice the $300 dollar rent John paid.

He ran a hand through his hair and gave a low growl of frustration. He had no idea where he was going to get the money. The only way was to get a job. He glanced toward the paper, fully intending to check the help wanted adds. When he grabbed it, he saw an obituary circled in red and the words possible spirit, written in Dean's handwriting and he cursed himself. He really needed to have a talk with Dean and he knew his son was not going to take kindly to the fact that it was going to be at least a couple of months before he could hunt again. He was concentrating so hard that he never heard his eldest come up behind him.

"Dad... amy" John heard a voice call him.

"Oh, sorry, Dean, who's Amy?"

Dean looked at his father as if he was crazy. "Huh?" He said in confusion.

"You said Amy," John replied.

"No, I said can Sammy and I take a walk to the video store and rent a movie?"

"Uh, sure," John said.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked curiously as he glanced over his father's shoulder and saw what were clearly pharmacy bills. "Never mind. I'm sure me and Sammy can find something on TV to watch," Dean added quickly.

John knew immediately that Dean had seen the bills by Dean's sudden desire to give up renting a movie, he didn't want his father to have to spend the money. Upon looking at his son, John could see guilt written all over Dean's face. "Dean, don't worry about this okay? I got it covered."

"But it's my fault," Dean said, more guilt coming out in his voice.

"It's your fault you got diabetes? Care to explain that one to me?" John asked.

"How are we going to pay for this?" Dean said, his tone shifting from guilt to worry as he ignored John's question.

"First of all, we're not. I am and I told you not to worry about it," John said firmly.

"But," Dean started to protest.

"I told you, I have it covered. The only thing you have worry about is looking out for Sammy and controlling your blood sugar. I will worry about the bills and that's an order, Jonathan Dean."

"Yes, sir," Dean muttered sullenly.

"Care to repeat that?' John said with authority.

"Yes, sir," Dean repeated, trying to sound more respectful.

"Good, now let's all go to the store and rent a couple of movies," John said as he pushed the bills aside and grabbed his wallet He had about $10 left. With the video store close by, he decided that they should walk and save the Impala's gas.

At the video store, Sam came up with the idea to rent the worst possible movies and make fun of them. At home, John made popcorn and put on the first movie, Beach Blanket Bingo, starring Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello.

"This is worse than bad, Sammy," John said. "Oh God, they're not going to sing again are they?" With that, John picked up a handful of popcorn and threw it at the screen. "Stop," he cried as he covered his ears with his hands Sam looked at his father like he was possessed but he couldn't help but laugh.

"Christo," Sam said to his father with a chuckle.

"Very funny, smart ass," John said. When Sam turned his attention back to the screen, John picked up a handful of popcorn and threw it at Sam, thus starting a popcorn war. Both were having such a good time that they failed to notice that Dean had once again gone into a funk

He had been quiet, not saying much since he had found the bills. He had agreed that Sammy's idea sounded fun and had helped himself to some popcorn, mostly because he had to eat. He half heartedly joined in the popcorn war, and after watching Plan Nine From Outer Space, he excused himself to go take his evening injection.

As he prepared the syringe, his mind was going a mile a minute. He was asking himself how he could help out his dad. He couldn't cut back on eating, he didn't want to have anymore hypos. He couldn't skip his injections because he remembered with crystal clarity how he had felt before his diagnosis and he didn't want to feel that way again, not to mention the potential for complications. He could cut back on glucose checks, though. He gave himself the injection, put the cap back over the needle and was about to drop it into his sharps container when he suddenly stopped. He regarded the syringe in his hand. At 3 injections a day, a box of 100 syringes would last 33 days. If he used the same syringe for all three injections, then the box would last 100 days, or a little over three months.

Betty had warned him that it wasn't a good idea to reuse syringes, they were designed for single use only, but he put that piece of advice out of his mind and dropped his used needle back in the box. He made sure it was facing the opposite direction was so he knew which one to use. Satisfied that he was at least doing a little bit to help his father, Dean felt a little better and went to join in the fun with his father and brother.

The next morning, when it was time for his injection, Dean, found that he need to use a little more force to get it to penetrate the skin. His afternoon injection hurt. When it came time for his evening injection, he finally discarded the used syringe and used a new one.

To make matters worse, Dean overheard a conversation between his dad and the landlord that day. John had taken $50 out of the rent money to buy Dean some more test strips. The landlord informed John he was $50 short on the rent. It didn't take Dean long to put 2 and 2 together and figure out where John had gotten the money for his supplies and his guilt returned in full force. He made the decision to get 2 days out of one syringe. By the time he got to the sixth injection it hurt, a lot, and Dean didn't fail to notice that a bruise had formed on his abdomen. Still, he stubbornly refused to stray from his course of action.

The evening that Sam had gone to his party, John just happened to walk by the bathroom when Dean was giving himself his evening injection and noticed that Dean had left the door ajar. John watched as Dean drew insulin into his syringe and then hesitated, like he didn't want to poke himself with it. He watched as Dean suddenly jabbed the needle into his flesh with what looked like force. He didn't miss Dean wince, which was strange to John because he had watched his son give himself a needle before and he knew that it didn't hurt, he could also make out what looked like a bruise on Dean's stomach. He watched as Dean recapped the needle and instead of dropping it into the sharps container, he dropped it back into the box and suddenly Dean's behaviour made sense.

"JONATHAN DEAN WINCHESTER JR," John called out forcibly, causing Dean to startle.

"Jeez, Dad, give a guy a heart attack why don't you," Dean said. "What did I do?" His dad only used his full name when he was in major trouble.

John stood there with his arms crossed and glared at his eldest, not saying a word. This meant that his dad expected him to know what he had done. Dean couldn't figure it out until he saw his father shift his gaze to the box of syringes on the counter behind him. He cursed himself for not shutting the bathroom door.

"I was there when Betty explained the dangers of reusing a syringe and if I recall correctly, so were you," John said.

"I can explain," Dean said weakly.

"Start," John ground out.

"I wanted to make my stuff last longer so you wouldn't have to replace it as often," Dean said.

"Disobeying a direct order and using bad judgement. Six more days," John said in response to Dean's explanation.

"But dad..." Dean once again tried to protest.

"Don't but dad me, Jonathan Dean. I clearly told you that you were _**not **_worry about the bills."

"How can you say that? It's my fault we're in this mess," Dean said, his voice think with emotion and beginning to waiver.

"Dean," John said in exasperation. "For the last time, it's_**not your fault. **_Did you ask for diabetes or do something that caused it? No you didn't. Let me ask you this. What if this had happened to Sammy?"

"Don't say that!" Dean snapped. He didn't want to have to think of his little brother going through what he did everyday.

"Would it be Sammy's fault that he needed medication?" John questioned Dean again.

"Of course not," Dean instantly protested.

"Then how is it your fault? Things happen that we can't control and you know that, Dean," John said in a gentle tone. "Do you trust me?"

"Do I even need to answer that?" was Dean's reply.

"Then trust me when I say we'll be alright. I will figure this out. Now, if I catch you doing this again, well you don't want to know what's going to happen. I want you to go get something to eat, then we'll work on your poker skills until it's time to go get Sammy." John pulled his son into a loose hug that worked to raise Dean's spirits again.

Dean wanted to be as good as his dad. "Kay, bet I can take you," Dean said confidently.

"In your dreams, buddy," John stated.

"Can we make it interesting?" Dean asked.

"How so?" John said.

"I win, I get a one day reprieve on my punishment and I get to take the Impala and pick Sammy up," Dean offered.

"Alright and if I win, you have to do the dishes for a month without complaining."

"Deal," Dean said.

John had been planning to let Dean win. He needed to make a phone call and he didn't want his eldest around when he made it, therefore, he was shocked when Dean really did win. Dean had figured out to how to use his natural ability in math to count cards and it gave him an advantage over his father. Dean happily took the keys and went to go pick up his brother. He had really missed driving the old girl.

Once Dean had left John sighed heavily, he couldn't believe that he was about to do this. He swallowed his pride and picked up the phone.

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Bobby Singer was sitting in his living room reading a book on exorcisms. Caleb was working a possession case and the standard exorcism wasn't working, so Bobby was trying to find one that would. He heard the phone ring and he figured it was Caleb calling to see how he was doing.

"Hello," Bobby greeted the caller.

_"Bobby, it's John," the voice on the other end said._

"Johnny, it's good to hear from you. How're the boys?" Bobby said sincerely.

_"They're good," John said._

Bobby picked up the hesitation in John's voice. "Is something wrong, John? Dean's okay, isn't he?" Bobby asked in concern.

_"He fine," John answered. "The reason for my call, Bobby, is, um it… I was wondering... well I think…" he stammered._

"Just say it, John," Bobby instructed his friend.

_"I need help," John blurted out suddenly_.

John never admitted he needed help. Bobby was instantly worried. "Anything, John, just tell me how."

_"I need money," John mumbled. He __**hated **__this._

"How much?" was Bobby's only reply.

_"Don't you want to know what for?" John asked._

"No," Bobby stated.

_John felt the need to explain. "Dean's medical supplies."_

"How much?" Bobby repeated.

_"I hate to ask Bobby but I need about $500," John admitted gruffly._

"Where do I send the money?" Bobby asked.

_"Never mind, forget I called,__Bobby," John said._

"John, don't you dare hang up," Bobby warned.

_"It won't help. It's__over $400 per month for all the stuff he needs. $500 will get me through this month, but what about next month? I can't have Dean compromise his health because of my money problems. I caught him reusing syringes. It could have led to all sorts of problems, abscesses__or infection at the injection site,__or the needle getting clogged and him not getting the__correct dose."_

"Come here," Bobby suggested. Dean was as stubborn as his father. He always put his family's needs above his own and Bobby wasn't about to let him comprise his health either.

_"Excuse me," John said._

"Come stay with me. You and the boys are welcome any time, you know that. I would love to see them, it's been awhile. I don't charge rent and you can work at my salvage yard until you get back on your feet."

_"Joshua said Dean needed to say put," John said._

"In one spot. This isn't the back woods. Talk to Dean's doctors and see if you can have his case transferred here."

_"Are you sure?"_

"Yes," said Bobby firmly.

_"How do I repay you?" John said gratefully._

"You don't repay your brother, Johnny. I'll expect you in a week," Bobby's tone left no room for argument.

_"See you then," John said. "And thanks."_

They disconnected the call after saying goodbye and John felt as if a big weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He could always count on Bobby.

Bobby knew what that phone call had cost John, he was as prideful and stubborn as the day was long. Still, Bobby couldn't help but grin. His family was coming home.

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John called the landlord and let him know that he would have his money for him tomorrow and also gave his notice that they would be leaving soon. It wasn't long after that that he heard Dean's key in the lock. John figured that Sam was going to come and tell him all about the party, Sam turned into a chatterbox when he was excited about something, so John was surprised when it was Dean he saw enter the kitchen, a grave expression on his face. John could hear his youngest walking through the small apartment. The footsteps were slow and had an almost clumsy feel to them, as if whoever was walking was having a hard time staying upright.

_What now, John thought. _"Dean is something wrong with Sammy?" John asked in concern. He really hoped that Sam wasn't coming down with the flu.

Dean tried to think of a way to phrase his answer that didn't involve lying to his father. He really didn't want any more days added to his total. "Nothing's wrong with Sammy," Dean said. It wasn't technically a lie, unless you counted the fact that his dad was going to kill his brother. Dean was determined to find a way to cover for his brother.

John could tell that something was up with Sam and that Dean was trying to take his father's attention away from that. "Dean, did something happen to Sammy at the party?"

Dean didn't want to answer his father, he didn't want to get Sammy in trouble.

"Dean, it's an order," John said when Dean hesitated. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to like it.

Dean sighed. "Sammy's drunk, dad," Dean said to his father's disbelief.

John stared at his eldest in shock. If anything, he would have thought that it would be Dean that he dealt with first when it came to alcohol. "Care to repeat that," John demanded.

Dean sighed. "When I went to get Sammy, I could hear the music from a block away. They have really crappy taste. I mean who actually listens to the Backstreet Boys. I mean come on," Dean babbled.

"Dean," John growled.

"What? Oh, sorry. I pulled up and there were lots of cars and other kids. From what I could see, most of them were in high school. I went in to get Sammy and saw a couple of kegs. There were drunk kids everywhere. They even offered me a beer."

"Did you drink it," John questioned his eldest.

"God, no. I'm not that stupid," Dean protested, not bothering to hid the fact that he was insulted by his father's question.

"Sorry," John said as he read Dean's tone.

"I found Sammy in the basement with several of his friends and they were all drunk."

"Were Larry's parents there?" John asked.

"I didn't see any adults in sight. I grabbed Sammy and dragged him up the stairs, stuffed him in the Impala and came home."

"Dean, I know that was hard for you to admit, but it was the right thing."

"Sammy's going to hate me for ratting on him," Dean said as his eyes shifted towards the table.

It was then that John noticed that Dean's eyes held a haunted look. Something else had happened that Dean wasn't talking about. John felt that Sam, in his inebriated state, had said something that had hurt his older brother. If that was the case, John knew he'd never get it out of Dean. "It's late, son. Check your blood sugar and go to bed. I'll deal with Sam in the morning.

Dean scowled. Why did his father have to remind him to test himself? He knew he had to. Did his father not trust him? All the said, though, was good night and headed off toward the bathroom. "Dad, don't be too hard on him okay, he's just a kid," Dean called over his shoulder as he left the kitchen.

"Good night, Dean," John said firmly, effectively telling his son that the matter was closed.

John sighed heavily and thought back to easier times, when he and Mary had looked forward to watching their sons grow.

Please read and review and let me know what you thought. I love reviews, and am addicted to them.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Still don't own them. Not making any money.

EARLIER THAT DAY…

Sam Winchester had been looking forward to this day since he had first gotten permission from his father to attend Larry's party. He had been making a valiant effort to avoid arguing with his father, he didn't want to risk not being able to go. This hadn't been too hard though, because every time he turned around, his father was fussing over Dean. Sam was really looking forward to tonight, not only because this was what normal people did, but because this night was for him and not Dean. It also didn't hurt that Bethany MacLean was going to be there.

Sam had had a crush on her since the day they moved into town, but she'd been dating Logan Freedman, the school's star basketball player, and the young hunter knew he didn't stand a chance against that kind of competiton. Recently, though, the couple had broken up and tonight Sam was planning to make his move. Since first impressions count for a lot, Sam went into the room he shared with Dean to gauge his wardrobe. Maybe he should have asked Dean for advice, after all, he never seemed to lack for female company. _No way, he thought as he came to a decision, Dean would never let him hear the end of it._

He pawed through his clothes, looking for something half-decent to wear. It wasn't like he had much of a choice, so he finally decided on his plain black T-shirt and put a red-button down shirt over it, but left it open. Of course, the fact that he was imitating his big brother's style of dress didn't cross Sam's mind at all. He found the one pair of jeans that didn't have holes in them and added them to his outfit. He looked at himself in the mirror and thought that he looked pretty good, but there was just one more thing he needed to put the final touch on his outfit.

He exited the room and looked around for Dean, and when he didn't see him, he went into the bathroom. He wanted to borrow some of Dean's aftershave, but didn't want Dean to see him doing it.

"Hey, Sammy, what's up?" Dean asked coming behind his little brother.

"Uh, nothing," Sam said trying to shove the aftershave behind a roll of paper towel.

"What's her name?" Dean asked as he wrinkled his nose at the overwhelming scent of too much aftershave.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, his eyes wide in an effort to maintain his appearance of innocence.

"The fact that you took a bath in Old Spice. Ever hear the word subtle? Is her name Tabitha, or maybe Esmeralda?" Dean said teasing Sam.

"Ever hear the words shut up," Sam mumbled, blushing. He was in for it now, Dean was like a dog with a bone.

"Isabella, Gabriella, Ruby, Summer, Paris," Dean continued.

"Bethany," Sam blurted out.

Dean whistled loudly. "Little brother's growing up. Sammy, I'm so proud," Dean said mockingly as he clasped his hands over his heart.

"Dean, can I ask you something?" Sam said seriously.

"Anything," Dean said, his tone becoming serious as well.

"What do you do when you like a girl?" Sam asked, not looking at Dean.

"First, be nice to her. Treat her like she's the most special girl on the planet and be honest with her, except if she asks you if her dress makes her look fat, the answer to that is always no, even if it does. Trust me on that one," Dean said with a shudder.

"I don't want to mess this up, I really like her," Sam said.

"Just be yourself, Sammy. If you do that and she doesn't like you, then it's her loss."

"Thanks, Dean," Sam said sincerely.

"Anytime, bitch."

"Jerk."

"Sammy, you ready?" they heard their father's voice calling from the kitchen.

"Yeah. I'm coming, dad," Sam called to his father as he grabbed his shoes out of the closet and double checked to make sure that the birthday card he had got for Larry was in his jacket pocket.

Like Dean, Sam had his own small secret stash of money. All he had left was 10 bucks though, so it would have to do, but he still felt like he was being cheap.

John had just grabbed the car keys off the counter when he saw his eldest son walk into the living room and pick up the newspaper. He reacted on instinct. "Dean," John said. "Come on, Sam's going to be late if we don't leave now."

"You're just dropping him off. Why do I have to go?" Dean asked with a frown. Did his father not trust him to stay alone for a lousy 15 minutes?

John guessed that Dean was starting to think that his father didn't trust him, but it had very little to do with trust. John had a feeling that Dean was going to be searching for a potential hunt and he was still struggling with how to tell him that hunting was out, at least for the summer. It was something the eldest Winchester was dreading because he knew how much Dean loved hitting the open road in the summer, travelling all over, looking for bad guys, sending evil back to hell and then moving on. John knew his son was still disappointed over missing the werewolf hunt, and that he was not going to take this news well, but he still needed to know and he needed to know soon. _I'll tell him as soon as I get home, John vowed. _

Knowing that there was no valid reason to make Dean come for the drive, John decided to distract his elder son instead. "Never mind, I'll be home soon. Can you start dinner?"

"Sure," Dean agreed affably now that he had escaped being dragged out.

"Don't forget to take your insulin," John reminded Dean. "Sammy, let's go."

Dean just glared at his father as he and Sam headed out the door. Was his father ever going to trust him?

John and Sam walked to the car, getting in and setting off in a comfortable silence. When they pulled out on to the highway, John addressed his son. "You remember the rules, Sammy?"

"Yup, call you when I leave the restaurant and if the party gets out of hand," Sam said mechanically. Honestly, his dad could be so paranoid sometimes.

"I know you think I'm being paranoid, Sammy," John said as if he had read Sam's thoughts. "But I was 12 once and trust me, I know what can happen."

"I swear, nothings going to happen. Oh, by the way, would you have an extra 10 dollars I could put in Larry's card?" Sam asked his father, although he knew what the answer was going to be.

"You're asking me this now, Sam. You had all week," John said in disbelief.

"It slipped my mind," Sam mumbled.

"Sorry, kiddo," John said. "If you had said something earlier but all I had was enough to pay the rent and get De..." He actually didn't have enough to pay the rent, but he didn't want Sam to worry.

"Something for his diabetes. Never mind," Sam interrupted with a huff.

"What's wrong, Sam?" John asked as he read the tone of his youngest.

"Nothing."

"Look, Sammy, I know this had been hard on all of us, but..."

"Dad, it's okay," Sam interrupted once more. "I understand."

Against his better judgement, John let the matter drop. Something was up with his son, but he was facing a confrontation at home with Dean and didn't need to get into it with Sam right now.

John was glad when they reached the restaurant. He told Sam to enjoy himself and reminded him once again of his promise. He drove home, fully intending to talk to his eldest, but when he got home and caught Dean re-using syringes, he ended up putting it on hold once again.

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Sam had a really good time at the restaurant with his friends, Larry, Tyler, Kevin, and Michael. Even though it was just a hamburger, fries and a milkshake from a fast food place, to Sam, it tasted like heaven. Sam had been surprised to discover that his dad was a great cook, but these days, diet soda had replaced regular, there were carrot sticks instead of cookies and salads tended to appear at meals instead of fries. Sam knew that it wasn't Dean's fault, but he really missed unhealthy food and this was just the beginning, Sam was really planning to pig out at Larry's.

Sam later called his dad to let him know that he was at Larry's and was getting ready for the party. John told him to have fun and that he would pick him up around 11.

He followed his friend down to the basement. He relaxed on one of the chairs while Larry put on some music and they waited for the others to arrive.

_Dean would be screaming for earplugs, Sam thought as the Backstreet Boys came blaring through__the speakers. _

"Hey, Sam, you want a soda?" his friend Michael asked him, holding a can out in front of him.

"Yeah!" exclaimed Sam as he accepted the can from his friend. "Real soda," he said with a huge grin, his taste buds already tingling.

"You'd think you'd never had one before," Michael said with a chuckle.

"My brother's a diabetic, my dad only buys diet," Sam explained as he took a big gulp.

"That's gotta suck," Michael said. "If I were you, I'd want to know why I have to suffer too. I mean, you're not the one who can't drink it, right?"

_Dad's not exactly the kind of person__you'd say that to, Sam thought. _"I never really thought of it that way," was all he said.

"Here, you must be starving. Have some chips," Michael said.

"Hey, runt," a voice called from the top of the stars.

"What do you want, Ryan?" Larry said addressing his older brother with a snarl. "Mom said you had to leave me alone."

"Chill, squirt," Ryan said. "I just wanted to let you know that mom and dad are leaving for the Andersons' to play cards. They want you to come say goodbye."

"Be right back, guys," Larry said as he took off up the stairs.

"What did you get Larry, Michael?" their other friend, Kevin, asked.

"I got him a game for his Nintendo," Michael said.

"I know his Mom got him a VCR, for his room so I got him a movie for it," Kevin said.

Tyler, the third boy said, "I got him the new N'Sync CD. What did you get him, Sam?"

Sam had been hoping they wouldn't ask him. He was really feeling like a cheapskate because all he had was 10 bucks and a birthday card. "I put some money in a card," Sam said, deliberately leaving out the amount.

Larry came back down the stairs followed by two more of his guests, Lisa Jardine and Tom Winston. They all greeted one another and made small talk.

"Hey, Larry," Sam said addressing his friend. "Are your parents going to be gone all evening?"

"Yeah," Larry said. "Ryan is in charge, but Mom said he had to leave us alone. He's gonna be staying upstairs. I think he's invitin' a few friends over too. I wish it was just us, Ryan's a big jerk," Larry said with none of the affection that Sam was used too when Dean teased him and called him names. "You have a brother, you must know what I'm talking about."

Sam was tempted to agree with his friend, but he found he couldn't. "Not really. Dean's great."

"You're lucky then. Ryan's the biggest jerk on the planet."

Before Sam could say anything else, a few more people joined him, Larry had invited 10 guests. Sam kept glancing up the stairs, looking for Bethany.

"Looking for someone, Sam?" Tyler asked.

"Uh, no one in particular," Sam answered, hoping that Tyler wasn't going to tease him.

"Don't look now, but no one just got here," Tyler said with a nod toward the stairs.

Sam couldn't help himself. He blushed. "Go for it, Romeo," Tyler said giving Sam a gentle shove in Bethany's direction.

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13 year old Bethany MacLean walked to the stairs in the Fisher's basement. Her older brother Brian had driven her here and he was staying to visit with Ryan, but Bethany knew that really meant partying. She was okay with that though, because she really liked to have a good time and was looking forward to slipping upstairs a little while later.

"Bethany," Lisa said, calling her best friend over as she spotted her coming down the stairs.

"Hey, Lise. What's up?" she asked her 14 year old friend, Lisa.

"Not a whole lot. Tonight's going to be a blast, don't you think?"

"Yup, Robert coming?" Bethany asked, naming her friend's 16 year old boyfriend. He went to school with her brother and Larry's brother.

"Yup and you'll never guess," Lisa said with an excited tone to her voice.

"What?" Bethany said.

"Robert's bringing beer. We're definitely going to have to ditch the kiddie party and have us some real entertainment."

"How is Robert going to get his hands on that?" Bethany asked curiously.

"His brother's getting for him," Lisa explained.

"Cool. Did you ever drink beer?"

"I had it once, but I can't wait to try it again. Tonight's going to be so much fun," Lisa said excitedly, but she could tell that her best friend was hesitating. "Something wrong, Bethy?"

Bethany grinned at the nickname. She and Lisa had been friends since grade one and Lisa hadn't been able to pronounce her name properly. "Since I broke up with Logan, I don't have a boyfriend and I don't want to stick out like a sore thumb," Bethany complained. She very much wanted to join the upstairs crowd.

"There's lots of guys here. Why not ask Sam?" Lisa suggested.

"I don't know," Bethany said hesitantly. Sam Winchester was just gorgeous, but Bethany had heard Brian talk about how weird Sam's brother was. Maybe that meant Sam was weird as well.

"I heard from Nancy, that Michelle told her, that Elizabeth said, that she heard that Sam told Larry he liked you," Lisa said.

"Really?" Bethany exclaimed. Maybe she'd have to give Sam a chance after all.

"Go talk to him," Lisa said as she gave her friend a gentle nudge in Sam's direction.

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Sam and Bethany slowly made their way over to one another, trying to delay the meeting as they both stopped to talk to other friends and get more refreshments. Eventually, they ran out of excuses and found themselves standing next to each other.

"Hi, Sam."

"Hi, Bethany," they both said in unison and Bethany started to giggle. Sam couldn't help but to grin as well, she had an infectious laugh.

"Great party," Sam said trying to break the ice.

"Yeah. I love a good party," Bethany confirmed.

"Want a soda or something?" Sam offered.

"Sure, get me a diet, I have to watch my figure."

Sam made his way over to the refreshment table and grabbed two sodas, diet for Bethany and regular for himself. He returned to her side and the two made some small talk about school and the weather. The more they talked, the more Sam realized that they had nothing in common. Sam loved school, Bethany hated it. Sam loved to read, she preferred to wait for the movie, but he remembered Dean's words and agreed with a lot of what she had said. Bethany invited Sam to come with her and Lisa upstairs to Ryan's party a little later and Sam agreed wholeheartedly.

Eventually, Bethany drifted back to Lisa's side and Sam went to talk to his friends. They were making plans for the rest of the summer, talking about going to the beach, to the movies, camping and taking bike rides. Sam had received several invitations, but the more they talked, the more he felt his good mood dissipating.

The day before Joshua had been scheduled to depart, Sam had woken up to use the bathroom and had overheard his father talking to the doctor about Dean. Sam had heard Joshua caution his father about Dean not hunting until his blood sugar stabilized.

Sam loved his brother. Dean was his whole world and Sam truly hated the fact that he had gotten sick, but part of him was happy to hear that they needed to stay put and this left Sam feeling really guilty. When he had started his current school, he had formed an instant friendship with Larry, Tyler, Kevin, and Michael and he was dreading the end of the school year because he'd have to say goodbye to them. Sam had felt a glimmer of hope that he might get to enjoy a normal summer for once, and maybe he could even carry on going to school here next year. Sam just hated that it was going to hurt his brother. Dean wouldn't take the news well. Then, Sam had gone looking for an envelope to put Larry's card in and found the stack of pharmacy bills in the kitchen drawer. Quickly adding them up, Sam knew that this was way more than his dad could afford, so he figured that his dad was going to drop them on one of his fake credit cards and they were going to take off. Sam was surprised that they hadn't already. He guessed that the only reason that they hadn't left yet was because his dad was worried about Dean. Sam knew without a doubt that it was just a matter of time and decided then and there that he hated their father's friend, Jefferson. He was the one that had taught John how to run credit card scams and it seemed that ever since he had done that, they moved more than usual.

"Sam, hey Sam. Earth to Sam," Michael said.

"Oh sorry, Mike. What did you say?"

"Tyler's mom said he could invite us to the lake with him next week. It's going to be a blast. We get to go waterskiing and swimming. Tyler's dad also said that he'd take us fishing."

"I'll ask my dad about it when I get home. I'd love to," Sam said sincerely. _If we're still here then._

"Sam," a female voice from behind them called.

Sam turned and saw Bethany approaching him.

"Go for it, you sly dog," Michael said shooting him a teasing look as he slinked off to go join Larry.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Robert just got here. Want to go upstairs with them and have some real fun?"

Sam had a hunter's instinct and his internal trouble radar went off at that moment, but he was torn. He was actually having a good time right where he was, but he wanted Bethany to like him and he was afraid that if he said no, Bethany was never going to talk to him again.

"Sure," he agreed finally. "Let's go." With that, Sam followed her up the stairs.

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The party upstairs was the total opposite of the party downstairs. Music was blaring and the boys and girls were mingling, instead of being on opposite sides of the room. Sam instantly felt uncomfortable with the entire scene. He knew it could lead to no good, especially since he could see several cases of beer on the counter in the kitchen. Sam was beginning to realize what his dad had been talking about and knew his should call him, but if he did that, he'd be a laughing stock to his friends, besides, things weren't technically out of control at his party. Everything was still calm down the basement.

"Here, Sam," Bethany said handing him a beer.

"Uh, thanks," Sam said as he accepted it. Sam's plan was to hold the can in his hand and pretend to sip it, he had no intention of really drinking it, after all, Dean was banned from the Impala and his dad would be the one picking him up. If he was caught drinking, he would be banned from living. Sam raised the can to his mouth and made it look like he was taking a drink. He licked his lips and found that he actually liked the taste and the next time he lifted the can, he allowed a tiny amount of the liquid to enter his mouth. A little couldn't hurt, right? He revised his plan and decided to nurse one can all night. He'd just call his dad at ten thirty and say the party was starting to get out of control. That way, he wouldn't get in trouble when his dad showed up. He'd explain the alcohol on his breath by saying he grabbed the wrong can. _Great plan,__Sammy. _

"Sam, Bethany," Lisa said joining them. "Want a hit," she said holding a joint out to them.

"Sure," Bethany said as she took the proffered joint from her friend, inhaled and promptly started coughing. She held it out to Sam.

"Um, ah, no thanks," Sam stammered. He didn't care if he looked like a wuss to his friends, he drew the line at drugs. John Winchester had a very strict, unbending view when it came to drugs, you didn't mess with them, plain and simple. Sam was not about to risk his father's wrath.

"Come on, Sam, don't be a stick in the mud," Lisa said.

"I'll pass," Sam said firmly. This was one thing he was not about to compromise on. He then took a big swig from his beer can, hoping that would placate them somewhat.

"That just leaves more for us," Bethany said, rescuing Sam and taking another hit.

Sam stuck close to Bethany and Lisa as he was feeling a little uncomfortable. He took another swig of his beer, hoping it would help him relax. Sam noticed that Bethany and Lisa were going through their beer like it was water and it wasn't long before both girls were drunk. Sam went for another sip of his own beer and was surprised to find the can empty, so he went to the kitchen and grabbed another beer. _One more can't hurt,__right? _Lisa soon left their side and went to her boyfriend's. Sam caught a glimpse of them kissing and it wasn't long before Sam noticed Robert giving Lisa a gentle pull before they disappeared into a room, shutting the door behind them. Sam found himself wanting to kiss Bethany and took another drink from the new can of beer. He found that it was loosening him up, he leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. When she didn't smack Sam in the face, he took another swig and kissed her full on the lips and Bethany returned the kiss.

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?" an angry voice said from behind them. Sam felt himself being grabbed and pulled away from his girl.

"Bri, relax, would ya. You're ruining my fun," Bethany said as she addressed her older brother, Brian.

"I don't want anyone taking advantage of my little sister," Brian said.

"Maybe I was taking advantage of him. Little Sammy here is very edible, don't ya think?" Bethany said and pulled Sam into another kiss. She hated when her brother tried to control her life.

"Bethany," Brian growled. He was going to pummel this kid.

"You're no fun," Bethany whined as she broke the kiss. "Maybe you just need to get to know each other, then we can all be friends. Sam, this is my brother Brian MacLean, Brian, this is my very good friend, Sam Winchester. Now, will you leave us in peace."

"Winchester. Are you related to that freak Dean Winchester?" Brian questioned.

Sam reacted instantly. "My brother's _**not **_a freak. You call him that again and you and me are going to have serious problem," Sam threatened. Sam knew he could take this guy with one hand tied behind his back. He had been trained by John Winchester, after all.

"See, now we're all one big happy family," Bethany said as she turned back to kiss Sam once again. This time, Brian grabbed his sister.

"Heeyyy Brriaan," Bethany tried to protest.

"Get away from him," Brian stated firmly.

"What's the hell is your problem?" Sam ground out as he felt his body stiffen and he fought the instinct to let his hands curl into fists.

"I don't want you making my little sister sick."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sam asked in a confused tone.

"Your brother's sick right? For all I know, you've got it and you're going to pass it on to my sister."

Sam was just about to ask this guy if was crazy when something clicked in his brain. He remembered Dean mentioning that his lab partner was named Brian. It would be just his luck that this jerk was the brother of the first girl that he really liked. He took another swig from his beer can. He needed something to calm his nerves as he was seriously tempted to pummel this guy. "Diabetes is _**not **_contagious. If it was, don't you think I would have it by now?" Sam said trying to reason with this idiot.

"Stay away from my sister," Brian warned.

"Your sister can make her own decisions," Sam answered.

"You brother has diabetes?" Bethany asked Sam.

"Um, yeah, so what?" Sam answered as he shrugged his shoulders and confusion marred his features. Why should she care about his brother? It wasn't like she was dating him.

"Isn't that where you have to take needles and not eat sugar?"

"Sort of," Sam answered hesitantly. "There's a lot more to it than that."

"Can you get catch it?" Bethany enquired.

"No, it's not contagious," Sam said firmly and confidently. He probably knew more about the disease then some doctors. After Dean's diagnosis, he had read everything about diabetes that he could get his hands on.

"How'd your brother get it?" Bethany asked curiously.

"His doctor said that sometimes it runs in families, but no one knows for sure," Sam informed Bethany, hoping that she was done with her questions.

"I don't know, Sam. I don't think I can deal with this."

A look of complete disbelief etched itself on Sam's face, was this girl going to reject him because of his brother? "It's my brother that has it," Sam insisted firmly.

"You just said that even the doctors don't know how people get it. It could be contagious. What if I went to your house and your brother had one of those fits? Brian told me about the one he had in gym class. I wouldn't know how to react," Bethany said callously, refusing to listen to Sam's words.

Sam wanted to tear his hair out by the roots but he knew he couldn't and settled for just running his hands through it in frustration. He also felt the need to defend his brother and he ground out slowly, trying to keep the anger out of his voice, "Dean doesn't have fits. It's called a hypoglycaemic attack and it happens when his blood sugar gets too low. You wouldn't have to react because Dean knows how to deal with it. What happened in gym class was rare."

Bethany could tell that Sam was getting angry but she didn't care. She had made up her mind. "I'm sorry, Sam, this just isn't going to work. I can't deal with illness. I can't even deal when I get the flu," Bethany said as she walked away and instead started to flirt with Larry's brother.

"Bethany," Sam whispered as he watched her walk away from him. Sam chugged the last of his beer. He went and got another one hoping it would make him feel better. He couldn't believe he had just been dumped for something he had no control over. He took another long drag on his beer and headed back to find his friends. If he had been sober, he wouldn't have given her another thought, but he wasn't thinking straight.

When he got back down to the basement, he didn't miss the fact that the beer had made its way down there as well. When he questioned Larry, his friend told him that he had blackmailed his older brother into giving him some, or he would tell their parents. Sam continued to mingle with his friends, but he found that his heart was no longer in it. He drained his beer hoping it would drown his sorrows.

Sam was quickly succumbing to the effects of the alcohol, his brain was no longer functioning properly. He wasn't worried about his dad anymore, Dean would cover for him, he always did. Again, had Sam been thinking properly, he would have remembered that it wasn't Dean who was supposed to be picking him up.

Even if Dean had been the one to come and get him, Sam forgot one other crucial point. Yes, Dean was a master manipulator, his good looks, easy going personality and natural charm allowed him to convince people to come around to his way of thinking. Sam had seen his brother talk teachers into extensions, talk his way out of detention and once, talk a police officer out of giving their dad a speeding ticket, but there was one person that Dean couldn't lie to and that was John Winchester. One look at Dean and John would immediately know that something was up.

Besides, thought Sam, his dad was too busy worrying about Dean's blood sugar and money. He probably won't even notice me, Sam thought as he took another beer. He could understand why his dad liked this stuff. He stopped paying attention to the time.

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Dean drove the Impala toward the Fisher residence. It wasn't hard to find, as all he had to do was follow the music. There were cars lined up and down the block and Dean had to be careful not to hit any of them, as the Impala was a large car. As luck would have it, there was a spot close by the house. Everywhere Dean looked, he could see kids that he recognized from his school. There wasn't a junior high schooler in sight. _Sammy,__you are so damn lucky it's me picking you up,__but Dad's still going to kill you. _

Dean parked the car. He didn't see Sammy anywhere, so he got out and locked it. He could see that the guy parked behind him was fumbling for his keys and clumsily trying to unlock his car door. It was easy to see the guy was drunk. Dean was about to go wrestle the keys off him, as there was no way he was going to let this drunk try to pull out from behind the Impala. He knew he had to try and cover for his brother and a dented car was something he didn't need to account for.

As Dean approached the boy he saw him drop the keys.

"Hey bbbbuudddyy can ya..." _hiicupp. _"Can ya gg.. get my kkk..eeyyys. Don't think I ccann uh get up or mmmayybbee its down," the kid said slurring his words.

Dean could see the keys glittering on the pavement. "Is that them?" He asked and pointed to a spot behind the guy.

"Where?" the guy asked as he tried to turn.

Reacting with lightening speed, Dean grabbed the keys off the pavement and hurled them as far as he could. This ass was not driving while drunk.

If there was one thing Dean Winchester hated, it was drunk drivers. Last year, he and his dad worked a hunt where there were claims of a child appearing on the roads and causing accidents, they claimed to hear a child like cry of 'I want to go home.' Research turned up a 10 year old boy that was run down by a drunk driver on his way home from school. Dean waited in the car as his father used one of his fake ID's and spoke to the parents, and Dean never forgot the look of utter devastation on the faces of the parents at their senseless loss. It was the first time that Dean had ever worked a job involving a child and he realized that Bobby had been right when he had warned him that cases dealing with kids were the hardest. It had even affected his dad. The boy wasn't evil or mean, he just missed his parents. In the end, John couldn't drop the match, he kept seeing his own boys in that coffin. Dean had put his hand to his dad's shoulder, told him it was okay and quickly dropped the match to burn the bones. Back at the motel, John sat his sons down and gave them a firm lecture about drinking and driving and laid down the law. If he ever caught them doing it, they would never drive again, mostly because they would never sit comfortably again. John didn't believe in striking his sons, but he said that would be one area in which he would make an exception.

Dean knew his father had no problem with going out and getting drunk, or having a beer, but even he abided by that rule. If he was too drunk to drive, he called his son.

"Nope, sorry, my mistake," Dean said as he smilied innocently to the guy as he continued into the house, leaving him scratch his head over the disappearance of his keys.

The party was still hopping and Dean recognized most of the kids there.

"Hey, Winchester," Dean looked up to see a guy he knew from his history class, Ron, if he recalled correctly

"What?" Dean asked as he looked around for Sam. He really wanted to get out of there.

"Wanna a beer?" Ron asked and started to laugh as if he had said the funniest thing ever.

"No, thanks," Dean said firmly.

"Always knew you were weird. Who doesn't like beer?"

"I never said I didn't like it, I just don't want any," Dean said as he walked away. Where the hell was Sam? Dean suddenly remembered that Sam had talked about hanging out in Larry's basement. Now he just had to find the basement. He spotted Ryan, Larry brother, making out with some girl. He tapped him on the shoulder.

"What?" Ryan snapped in annoyance.

"Where's your basement?" Dean asked.

"Other there," Ryan said pointing in a general direction as he turned back to the girl. "Now where were we, Bethany? Oh yeah."

The name clicked, Bethany. He really hoped that this she wasn't the girl that his brother liked, but Bethany was not really a common name. Dean felt really bad for Sammy.

He picked his way through the kids on the stairs and looked around for his brother. He really hoped that Sam wasn't drinking because he knew he'd never get that one by their father. All hopes were dashed when he finally spotted his little brother.

Sam was sitting on the couch next to Larry. Both had beer in their hands and it was very easy to tell that that they were drunk. Larry could hardly sit up straight, he kept slumping over and Dean knew that he was on the verge of passing out. Sam didn't seem much better.

"Sammy, time to leave," Dean said firmly.

"Don't wanna, fun to have," Sam said.

"Sammy, now," Dean stated in his best imitation of John Winchester.

"You always gotta ruin my fun. Fun party, I wanna stay," Sam pouted.

"Forget it," Dean informed his brother. He pulled the beer from Sam's hands, put it on the coffee table, grabbed his brother's lanky form and pulled him to an upright position. Sam barely managed to stay on his feet.

"I said I don't wanna g'ome," Sam stated and sat back down.

Dean was debating killing his brother himself and saving their dad the trouble. "Sammy, you either get up and walk out of here with me, or I'm going to throw you over my shoulder and drag you out kicking and screaming," Dean warned him in a tone that said he wasn't kidding. "Count of three."

"No," Sam said stubbornly.

"One."

"No," Sam repeated again.

"Two."

Sam just crossed his arms and gave a grunt.

_Stubborn idiot, Dean thought. _"Thr.."

With that, Sam slowly started to get up. He knew that Dean was serious.

"I hate you. You ruin everything," Sam said firmly.

Dean tried not to react. He knew it was the alcohol talking, but it still hurt anyway and he flinched.

Sam staggered toward the stairs. Dean followed closely behind to make sure Sam didn't fall and break his neck. The cool air hit Sam like a brick and he almost went down, but Dean was there to steady him.

He got Sam in the car and looked around. There were lots of cars and Dean didn't want anyone driving home drunk. He drove down the block and stopped at the nearest pay phone and put in an anonymous call to the local police, pretending to be a neighbour logging a complaint about a party with underage drinking. It solved his problem of stopping others from driving home drunk and got revenge on Ryan and Bethany. Sammy was his little brother and no one was allowed to hurt him. He then found a coffee shop and went in and bought Sam a large coffee and forced his brother to drink it. Sam gagged a few times, but managed to get it down.

"Dean, who did you call?" Sam wanted to know.

"Doesn't concern you."

"It wasn't dad, was it?" Sam asked. Fear was starting to sober him up fast.

"No Sammy, although you know he's going to find out."

"He won't unless you tell him," Sam tried.

"It's dad, Sammy. First, you smell like a brewery and second, you can't even stand up straight. He's gonna know the minute he sees you," Dean cautioned.

"You could fake a hypo and then dad would probably forget I'm in the house," Sam said trying another angle.

"Not a chance," Dean said uncomfortably, trying not to show he was upset he was that Sam would even suggest that. "Even if he didn't make me test my blood sugar right away, which he would, he'd make me eat something with sugar in it. My readings have been high enough lately, I don't want to make them higher. I'm not…" Dean stopped suddenly as he said too much.

"Not what?" Sam asked worriedly.

"Forget it," Dean said.

"That's what you and dad always say," Sam said as he crossed his arms and stared out the window.

"Sammy," Dean tried. He had a feeling something was up with Sammy.

"Forget it," Sam said echoing Dean's words. "I have an idea, I'll just go to my room and you can say I'm not feeling well," Sam said trying to come up with another solution. He wanted to change the subject as well.

"What's the first thing dad does if one of us says the other's not feeling well?" Dean asked his little brother, letting him change the subject.

Sam sighed. "Check on us."

"Face it, Sammy, you're screwed. Dad's going to be pissed."

"He probably won't notice anyway," Sam mumbled before he could help himself. He really didn't want to bring this up again.

"It's dad, Sammy. He notices everything," Dean stated.

Sam found he couldn't let it go, realizing that this situation was affecting him more than he'd been willing to admit. "If it's about you or your diabetes he does. He doesn't care about what I do, or what I want."

"That's not true, Sammy. Dad cares about you," Dean said in disbelief, unable to see why Sam would feel that way.

"No, these days it's alway's 'Dean, check your blood sugar', 'Dean, take your insulin', 'Dean, make sure you eat something'. Since when does dad care about what I want?"

_It's the alcohol, Dean. Don't listen, Dean tried to tell himself. _It didn't work and he snapped back, "You think I want any of that stuff?"

"No, but everything's about you. Tyler invited me to his family's cabin on the lake next week and I can't go because of you," Sam accused his brother.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean asked in confusion.

"We have to leave. Dad can't afford your medical stuff, so we're going to take off and I want to stay here," Sam said crossly.

Dean's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "Dad said he has the bills covered, Sammy," Dean said tightly.

"Yeah right, and that's why you're picking me up. He was on the phone the minute you left, making arrangements," Sam argued.

"I beat him at poker. That's why he let me," Dean said, but he knew his brother was right. The only way they could get time off their punishments was for good behaviour. John Winchester did not allow his sons to bribe him or make deals to get out of it. Dean was just so happy about driving the Impala again that he hadn't allowed himself to think too much about it.

"You're overlooking one crucial point, Sammy. Even if we were staying, you're going to be grounded for life and that's only if dad doesn't kill you."

Sam ignored the wisdom in Dean's words, he wasn't ready to give up just yet. "I thought maybe we could have a normal summer, but now we have to leave again. Why does everything always have to be about you? I thought that tonight I would be able to have a night to myself, you know what? It turned out to be all about you again!!"

"Sammy, did something happen?" Dean asked. He knew there were kids from the high school at the party. If one of them hurt his brother, it wasn't going to be pretty.

"Bethany and me were getting along great and then her brother Brian, you remember, your former lab partner, he told her all about how you were sick. Then she tells me that she can't deal with illness and walked away from me and started making out with Larry's older brother. So once again it became all about you. Why can't I ever have anything to myself? Larry was right. Big brothers are a pain. You ruin everything."

Dean pulled the car over to the side of the road. He had to talk to his brother

"You don't mean that, Sammy," Dean said refusing to take the bait. It was the alcohol talking and not his baby brother, but Sam's words still stung. "If Bethany dumped you for that reason, then you're probably better off without her. I'm glad I called the cops."

"You did what?" Sam asked incredulously.

"I reported the underage drinking. I guarantee you, none of them were going to call a cab and you know how dad feels about drinking and driving."

"My friends are never going to talk to me again," Sam lamented.

"Like dad is ever going to let you out of the house again," Dean countered softly as he reached over and grabbed his M&M's, popping a few in his mouth as he tried to get a handle on his emotions. He knew stress could play havoc with his blood sugar and right now, on a scale of 1 to 10, his stress level was about a 15. The girl Sam liked had dumped his brother because of him and it was his fault that his dad was struggling to make to make ends meet.

Sam saw Dean grab the candy. "Are you all right?" he asked sincerely, worry starting replacing his anger. Even though he was mad at his brother, he still didn't want anything to happen to him.

"Fine, Sammy," Dean said and ate a few more of the brightly covered candy. "Pre-emptive strike," he explained.

It was a short while later that Dean pulled up in front of their building.

"Okay, Sammy, I want you to do your best to walk straight. Go directly to our room and I'll try to think of something to say to dad, alright," Dean said as they got out of the car.

"Thanks, Dean," Sam said sincerely.

Upon entering the apartment, Sam took Dean's advice. He tried to stealthily walk down the hall, but managed it with about as much grace as a bull in a china shop. He didn't even bother to change. He just lay down and was asleep before his head hit the pillow. He didn't even hear Dean come in.

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The next morning, Sam awoke with a massive headache and noticed that his room had suddenly turned into a revolving one.

"Morning, Sammy," Dean said quietly as he handed Sam a glass of water and two aspirin.

"Dean, turn the room off would you?" Sam pleaded pitifully.

"Better get up. Dad wants to see you," Dean informed his brother.

Sam groaned. He slowly lifted his head from the pillow and swallowed the aspirin and vowed never to drink again. It probably wouldn't matter, he thought ruefully, he was probably never going to see daylight again.

"I thought you said you'd cover for me," Sam accused his brother.

"I said I'd try. You know how hard it is to get something past dad," Dean said trying to keep the hurt out of his voice at the fact that Sammy would think he would sell him out to their father.

Sam ignored his brother's response and eventually stumbled down the hall to where his dad awaited him in the kitchen. He had three words for his youngest.

"Sit, start talking," John ordered.

Before Sam could open his mouth, Dean wandered into the kitchen. He wanted to be there to try and keep the peace between his father and brother. He was really hoping that this wouldn't get ugly or turn into a discussion about him.

"Make yourself scarce, Jonathan Dean," John instructed without sparing his eldest a glance.

"Yes, sir," Dean said. "I just wanted to get a drink," Dean said as he opened the fridge and grabbed the first thing he saw.

"You okay?" John questioned when he saw Dean holding the orange juice. Dean's doctor had recommended orange juice as something to give his son if he was having a hypo.

Both Sam and Dean gave twin scowls.

"I'm fine, dad," Dean insisted.

"Did you check your blood sugar this morning?"

"Yes," Dean said, his irritation growing. He was cursing himself for getting into this situation.

"And?" John prompted.

Dean gave a long suffering sigh and answered. "115."

"They why are you drinking orange juice?" John asked. Dean was running high and orange juice contained a lot of natural sugar which could push it higher.

"Grabbed the wrong jug," Dean said as he put the juice back and grabbed the water. He quickly poured himself a glass and vacated the room. John turned his attention back to Sam. By this time, a dark thunder cloud had descended on Sam's mood. His father couldn't even chew him out without focusing on Dean.

"Talk, Sam," was all John said.

Wasn't his dad going to ask him how he was? Probably didn't care. Sam took a deep breath, looked at his father and said, "It's a long story."

"Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time. You're grounded for a month."

"What?" Sam asked in surprise. His dad usually went by threes.

"First, there was you lying to me about Larry's parents being there, then there was the drinking, breaking your promise and using bad judgement."

"That's only 12 days," Sam mumbled.

"The drinking deserves a lot more punishment than 3 days grounding," John said explaining his choice. "Now I want to now everything that happened. Spill. It's an order."

"Everything is with you," Sam said before he could stop himself.

"You trying for the rest of the summer? Well congratulations, wish granted, Samuel Francis Winchester."

"I HATE YOU!!" Sam suddenly snapped. "All you care about is Dean and his stupid diabetes."

That brought John up short. "That's not true and you know it."

"Isn't it? Ever since he came home from the hospital it's Dean this and Dean that. You don't even notice me anymore," Sam accused his father.

"I'm sorry it seems like that, Sammy, but I never meant to make you feel that way. It's just that Dean needs the extra attention right now. His disease is still unstable and we have to stay on top of it and, Sam, we both now that Dean takes good care of you, but doesn't really look after himself."

"Still, would be nice if you paid attention to me once in a while," Sam said miserably. He had really surprised himself by thinking this way. A few weeks ago, he would have given anything to be off his father's radar, all Sam wanted to do was spend time with his friends and every time he turned around, his dad said no and they were butting heads. Now Sam had been allowed out and he had blown it big time.

"I'm sorry, Sam," John apologized sincerely. "I guess I didn't realize just how hard Dean's illness has been on all you."

"It's okay, dad. I was pretty stupid last night," Sam admitted.

"What on earth possessed you to pick up a drink?' John asked his youngest curiously.

"I didn't mean to," Sam said trying to explain. "Bethany invited me upstairs to Larry's brother's party and she handed me a beer. I was just going to pretend to drink it. Then I figured one couldn't hurt and then one became two and two became three. You know the rest."

"It was still a pretty stupid thing to do. If this girl jumped off a cliff, would you follow her? Wait on second thought, don't answer that," John said. God help him, it was bad enough when Dean had discovered girls, now he had to deal with Sam as well. "So her name's Bethany?" John inquired.

"Dad, don't you start. Besides, she doesn't like me anymore."

"Did something happen?"

"Her brother knows Dean and he told her about his diabetes and she decided she couldn't handle it," Sam explained.

"That's the dumbest thing I ever heard. If that's true, you're better off without her," John informed his youngest son.

"I know that now, but when you're three sheets to the wind, it makes more sense," Sam said. "Guess I own Dean an apology for that one," Sam conceded.

"You know Dean won't hold that against you."

"Dad, I'm really sorry about last night. Please don't ground me all summer. My friends have lots of things planned."

"Look, Sammy, I can understand why you did what you did, but the fact is that you do the crime you do the time. So let's say 9 days for the bad judgement, lying to me and disobeying an order, and 6 days for the drinking. 15 days total."

"I can live with that," Sam said. It was better than the whole summer. Sam got up. He wanted to go get a shower and change. He was still in his clothes from last night.

"Hold up a minute, Sam. I need to talk to you, and Dean, I know you're listening in the hallway so you might as well come in."

Dean walked into the kitchen sheepishly and sat next to his brother. Both Winchester siblings wore twin looks of frustration. Sam knew his father was going to tell them they were moving again and Dean hated the fact he'd been the topic of conversation between his dad and brother.

"Both of you drop your attitudes right now or I'm adding another three days," John ordered.

"Yes, sir," both Sam and Dean said in unison.

"I talked to Bobby last night," John started.

"About a hunt?" Dean asked, a touch of excitement coloring his voice.

"No, not about a hunt," John said dismissively. "We're going to spend the summer with him. We're leaving as soon as I can make arrangements with Dean's doctor to have his case notes transferred."

"But, dad," Sam immediately protested. "I have friends here, real friends. Why do we have to move?"

"Because I said so, that's why," John said giving no further explanation.

Dean had mixed feelings. He loved staying at Bobby's and he was looking forward to seeing him, but he knew that the reason they were moving was because of his medical bills.

"We're moving because of me, right?" Dean said despondently. "My meds are too expensive. You can't afford it. "

"Damn it, Dean," John said as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "I told you to drop it. I told you I would handle it and I did. It's not charity. I can work in Bobby's salvage yard. Then we'll go from there."

""I don't want to stay with Bobby. I want to stay here," Sam snapped.

"Samuel, I am your father and you'll do as I say," John said, his temper growing.

"You can get a job here," Sam insisted.

"You just earned another three days for insubordination," John growled.

"That's you answer for everything, isn't it? Newsflash, dad, I'm not your soldier and neither is Dean."

"Leave me out of this, Sam," Dean said quietly, staring at the floor. He really hated it when his brother and his dad fought.

"Just give me one explanation about why you can't get a job here. You're just working to pay the bills and it's not like Dean can hunt anyway," Sam blurted out and immediately slapped his hand over his mouth. He hadn't meant to let that slip.

"SAMUEL," John thundered.

Dean stared at his father and brother. "Dad, what's he talking about?" Dean asked quietly. "Joshua said I could still hunt."

John didn't know what to do or say, he could see the confusion written on Dean's face. He couldn't put it off any longer.

"Dean, Joshua recommended that you avoid hunting for awhile, until your blood sugar stabilizes."

"How long?" Dean asked softly. Why had his dad lied to him?

"A few months," John confirmed.

"Whatever, can I go now?" Dean huffed and walked away before John could dismiss him.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to tell him, it just slipped out," Sam said.

"No, Sam. This is my fault," John conceded. "I should have told him the truth from the start." He glanced toward the boys' room. "I better go talk to him."

"I'm coming too," Sam said making the decision.

"Come on, then, kiddo," John said with a tired sigh.

TBC

A/N: A big thank you to Soar for her awesome beta work. Any left over mistakes are completely my own. Also a big thank you to Sinead-Conlan for betaing my medical facts and for the suggestions on Sam and Dean's conversation in the car.

Please read and review.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Still don't own them. Not making any money.

Thanks once again to Soar for all her hard work in betaing this chapter. Also once again a thank you to Sinead-Conlan for the beta of my medical facts and for her suggestions on this chapter.

John watched as his eldest son slinked off towards his bedroom. He wanted to make Dean feel better,but he honestly had no idea how. The support group he had joined would be of no help, as he couldn't exactly ask the other parents if their kids had problems hunting demons and poltergeists. If he did that, he'd end up in a rubber room and the boys would be with social services.

As he and Sam made their way down to the boys' room, John desperately wracked his brain for something to say. His boys were complete opposites when dealing with something that upset them, Sam yelled, but Dean went silent. The worse the situation, the louder Sam got and the quieter Dean got. In a way, John found it much easier to deal with Sam's shouts because he knew exactly what was going through his youngest son's mind, as he never hesitated to tell you. With Dean, John had to guess and he was never sure if he had guessed right. This time, though, there was no mistaking what was going on with Dean, but it still didn't make the situation any easier.

John gave a loud knock on the closed door. He wasn't really expecting an answer, he just didn't want to startle Dean and end up with a knife in his chest. John opened the door and he and Sam slipped inside.

Dean had his duffle bag on his bed, gathering up his few possessions and stuffing them inside it.

"Dean, can we talk a minute?" John asked his son.

"Nothing to talk about," Dean replied shortly. "I can't hunt anymore, what's left to say."

"I need you to listen to me."

"I did. No hunting, I get it," Dean said curtly as he reached under his pillow and grabbed his hunting knife. He was about to shove it in his bag when he paused for a moment, looking at it sadly. His dad had given it to him for his 13th birthday. It was made from pure iron and his initials, JDWJ, were carved at the base in small letters. It had constantly been with him ever since.

Dean remembered the day he had received it. He could tell that it was expensive and his face had lit up in pleasure that his father was trusting him with a weapon of his own. He had seen his initials and asked his dad why he had put the extra J on it. John had just grinned and pulled out an identical knife with the initials JDWS engraved on it. He had explained that they needed to be able to tell whose was whose. Dean knew that John had a third identical knife for when Sam turned 13. His initials, SFW, were also carved on it.

"Here, Sammy," Dean said suddenly, handing the knife to his brother. "I guess I don't need this anymore."

"Dean," Sam said, taking the knife his brother was extending towards him. "You love this thing."

"What am I going to use it for?" he said with a small shrug.

"I'm sorry I said that, Dean," Sam said trying to apologize to his brother.

"What's to be sorry for," Dean said dismissively. "_**You**_ were just telling the truth," he said to his brother while shooting an accusing glare at his father.

John sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He had caused this. _Damn it, you stupid idiot, you should have just told him the truth from the beginning. First, you have to get his attention. _"Dean, we need to talk, so sit and listen. That's an order."

The three magic words. Dean stopped instinctively in the middle of stuffing some clothes in his duffle bag. He sat on his bed, hands in his lap and looked to his father expectantly.

"First, Dean, I owe you an apology as well. No, just listen," John said as he held up a hand to stop Dean's protest. "Joshua did _**not **_say you can never hunt again. He did recommend waiting at least a couple of months though, until your blood sugar stabilizes."

"What does that mean?" Dean asked quietly. "What exactly does stable mean?"

John was about to answer when he realized he couldn't. He honestly had no idea. "I'm not sure," John admitted to his eldest. "You have a check up this afternoon though. We'll check with your doctor then."

Dean just scowled. He didn't want to go to the clinic. He just wanted to be left alone. "What are you gonna say, dad? When can my son go back to hunting supernatural creatures? That'll go over real well," Dean snapped.

"I'll figure something out, buddy. You will hunt, Dean," John said firmly. "Your doctor said there was nothing you couldn't do."

"Well we didn't exactly tell her about going after big scary monsters, did we?" Dean questioned.

"No, but we did ask Joshua, remember. He wouldn't have said that if he didn't feel you couldn't hunt safely," John said trying to reason with his eldest son.

"Maybe I shouldn't," Dean mumbled under his breath.

"What did you say?" Sam asked his brother.

"I said maybe I shouldn't hunt. What if I pass out again? You could get hurt, Sammy, or dad could."

_So could you, John thought to himself. _"Dean, there is no denying that things have to change when it comes to hunting, but you love it and you don't have to give it up."

"Look what happened in gym class. I hardly did anything and ended up flat on my back," Dean protested.

"You admitted that you didn't eat that day. That's why you passed out, Dean. We'll figure this out, son, I promise. Right now, you're barely three weeks past diagnosis and your body's still adjusting. Even Dr. Doyle said these next few months are going to be an adjustment period. Just give it time."

"Here, Dean, you need this more than me," Sam added as he handed Dean back his knife. Dean accepted it wordlessly and put it into his bag, giving John and Sam hope that his father's words were getting through to him.

Dean knew that his father wasn't one to agree with, or say something just because it would make him and Sam feel better and he allowed himself to feel the faintest amount of hope that he could not only hunt, but hunt safely.

"Come on boys," John said suddenly. He still had the fake credit card in his wallet and they were leaving shortly. "Let's go out for breakfast."

"Yeah, can we go to IHOP?" Sam cried.

"Sure Sammy, sound good to you, Dean?"

"Yeah," Dean agreed with a grin. He loved their chocolate chip pancakes and wondered if he could talk his dad into letting him get some. Once couldn't hurt, right?

Sam got showered and changed and he was soon ready to go. After he was finished, Dean went in behind him to make sure he had everything he needed in his injection kit. He decided to wait until they got to the restaurant before taking his morning needle.

"Dean, you ready?" he heard his dad call to him.

"Yup, coming dad," he answered as he zipped up his kit.

"Don't forget your injection kit," John reminded him.

A frown marred Dean's features as he exited the bathroom, kit in hand. Why didn't his dad trust him?

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The WInchester's made their way to the nearest IHOP. The boys strode ahead and chose a booth in the corner, sliding into the seat facing the wall, leaving their dad to take his customary corner seat, where he could keep an eye on everything and everyone around them. When the waitress took their orders, both John and Sam ordered the same thing, blueberry pancakes topped with powdered sugar and whipped cream. Sensing that Dean needed a pick me up, John allowed him to order the chocolate chip pancakes, plain though, without the whipped cream and powdered sugar. Dean had also been pleasantly surprised to discover that the restaurant had sugar free syrup. This allowed Sam and John to enjoy their breakfast without feeling guilty.

After breakfast, they drove to the bank and John picked up the wire transfer from Bobby. When he discovered what Bobby had done though, John decided that the first thing he was going to do when he saw his friend was kill him. Bobby, guessing that John needed a lot more than he had said he did, hadn't sent $500, he had sent $1000. John was sorely tempted to send the extra $500 back, but he couldn't. He knew they needed the money to get them through this next week and out to Bobby's. He vowed to pay his friend back no matter what it took, though.

John drove Sam back to their apartment with orders to start packing. This caused Sam to give his own scowl, he still did not want to move, he wanted to stay here and hang out with his friends. What Sam didn't know was that all his friends were as grounded as he was, most for the entire summer. To say that their parents weren't happy to have their drunk, underage sons brought home by the cops was an understatement. Sam probably would have been shocked to learn that his dad had been the most understanding.

While Sam's temper was festering at home, Dean's was growing beside his father in the car. He had an appointment to see Dr. Doyle that day and he was dreading it. Dr. Doyle had asked him to bring his diary so that she could review it, and his readings had been swinging from too low to too high, often in the same day. He was really hoping this didn't mean that he was going to end up back in the hospital. By the time they arrived at the clinic, Dean was in a foul mood.

"Dean," John warned. "If they ask you a question, you better answer honestly. It's the only way you're going to feel better."

"I know that," he snapped as he stalked away and headed toward the entrance of the clinic.

John just shook his head and followed his son. The fact that they ended up waiting almost 45 minutes for Dean's name to get called didn't help the mood of either father or son. Dean wanted to tell his father that he didn't want him to go into the exam room with him, he didn't need his hand held, but the truth was that Dean wanted his dad by his side.

"Good afternoon Dean, John," Dr. Doyle greeted the Winchesters brightly as she walked into the exam room. "Dean, do you have your diary?" she asked as she extended her hand.

Dean wanted to say no, but it was in his hand and there was no denying it. He reluctantly handed it over and kept a watchful eye on his doctor's face as she flipped through it. It remained neutral and Dean couldn't gauge her reaction one way or the other. She checked his blood pressure, listened to his heart and lungs and checked his feet. She then lifted up his shirt to check his abdomen and showed her first sign of emotion when she frowned at the bruise Dean sported. He couldn't help but wince when she poked at it.

"Were you reusing syringes?" Dr. Doyle asked disapprovingly

Dean just looked at his feet and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"You know the risk. Is there a reason why?" his doctor asked with a frown.

Dean looked forlorn. He didn't want to admit why. Their finances were none of the doctor's business. "Dean," Dr. Doyle prompted.

John knew that she had a snowball's chance in hell of getting his son to admit the truth. Looking for a way to get Dean out of the room, he grabbed the plastic cup off her tray and asked Dean to give the doctor the urine sample she required. Dean grabbed it gratefully and bolted out of the room as if he was on fire.

"John," Dr. Doyle said addressing him. "Do you know why he did it?"

John didn't want to admit the truth either, but found himself blurting it out. "He did it for me," John admitted. "Finances have been a little tight since Dean's diagnosis. He found the pharmacy bills and was trying to save money."

Dr. Doyle stared at John incredulously. John noticed the look on her face and felt the need to further clarify. "It's just me and the boys and Dean often feels like he needs to take on more responsibility than he has to."

"If you're having trouble, there are programs that can help. I can give you some numbers," she offered kindly.

"Not necessary," John answered instantly. It had cost him a lot to call Bobby and ask for help, he was not about to take charity from a stranger.

The doctor was taken aback by the finality of John's answer. She had dealt with people who didn't like to accept help and she didn't want Dean's health put at risk because of his father's stubborn pride. "I know it can be hard," she began. It was as far as she got.

"It's not that," John said before she could go on. "I was speaking with my, um, my brother and he owns a salvage yard and he's offered me a job, we can stay with him. It's also something I needed to talk you about. Bobby lives in South Dakota, so is there any way we can go about getting Dean's records transferred up there?" John asked.

"I can make some inquires," Dr. Doyle said.

"Thanks," John said sincerely as Dean rejoined them. Dr. Doyle monitored for Dean to get back on the exam table.

Dean complied because he figured it would get him out of here quicker. He hoped this was going to be over soon. "I want to take some blood to test for infection, just in case," she said as she tied a tourniquet around Dean's upper arm. After she was done taking the blood sample, she checked his blood sugar and his urine sample and asked him some general questions about how he was feeling overall. Dr. Doyle hadn't been on duty when Dean had passed out in gym class, so she asked him several questions about it, and Dean was forced to admit that he hadn't eaten. She also made inquiries as to whether or not he was still experiencing low blood sugar in the mornings.

After answering all her questions, Dean ended up with another lecture on the importance of eating right and the dangers of reusing syringes. He was getting tired of hearing about it.

"Any questions?" she asked, not really expecting any from Dean, but his father might have some.

"I do have one," John mentioned. "You said it would be a few months before Dean is considered stable, but I realized that I have no idea what that means."

"We define it as not a having a blood sugar reading below 70, or not having a reading higher than 105, for a period of a few weeks," she explained.

"Dean's an athlete," John said. "Is it safe for him to be training and playing?" John asked.

"He can train and play right now. It's just that there is a higher probability of him having a problem during these initial few months. Baseball, track and field, that's all fine. Now if you were a base jumper or sky diver, I would suggest waiting," Dr. Doyle said trying to lighten the mood.

"So basically, avoid life or death situations," John said.

"Basically," the doctor agreed.

"So how is he doing overall?" John asked with concern.

A grimace crossed Dean's face as he crossed his arms and returned his gaze to the floor. He _**hated **_it when they talked about him as if he wasn't even in the room.

"To be honest, most of his readings, these last few days, are a little higher than I would like them to be, but I'm going increase the number of units he is taking with his morning and afternoon insulin dose," Dr. Doyle said addressing John's concerns.

"What if that doesn't work?" John asked as he directed his worried glare toward his son. Dean still wouldn't look at them and John resisted the urge to sigh.

"Then we'll look at increasing the number of injections Dean takes."

"Thanks, doc," John said and threw a look at his son.

"Yeah, thanks," Dean mumbled without sincerity. He was tired of this, he just wanted to go home.

Dr. Doyle then explained the adjustments to Dean's insulin schedule and gave them some travel tips, such as how to properly store Dean's insulin when travelling, and to be vigilant about checking his blood sugar, and watching out for hypos. Then, to make matters worse, Dean had to go visit with the dietician, who wanted to explain some changes with his diet and let them know about the importance of maintaining his meal plan when they were on the road.

Dean wanted to scream how much he hated this, but he did what he always did, he swallowed his feelings and listened to what everyone was telling him. He was never so happy as when he was told he could go and he immediately bolted for the Impala.

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John glanced over at Dean while he and Sam played cards. Dean was trying to teach his brother how to play poker. Thinking about their upcoming travel arrangements, John really wished he had another way to punish his eldest son. If Dean had been able to drive, John would have switched off the driving with him and they would have drove straight through to Bobby's. Instead John was guessing that it would take about three days to drive there, if he drove for eight hours a day.

Dean loved being behind Impala's wheel and John discovered that it was a truly effect punishment because grounding Dean wouldn't work, he rarely ever went out. Banning him from hunting was not really an option because John needed his son's help. He couldn't take away Dean's allowance because he didn't get one. Before Dean had learnt to drive, John had been hard pressed to come up with ways to punish Dean, which he thanked his lucky stars he didn't have to do that often. Dean hated research though, so John had tried making him do reports on how to track and destroy supernatural creatures. The more obscure, the better, as it kept him occupied.

This had actually ended up saving their lives on a hunt one time. Dean had been punished for watching TV instead of doing his chores when John was on a hunt. He had come home to find the place looking like a pigsty and had assigned his eldest to clean the whole house as well as write a report on Noggles, small woodland creatures that resembled elves, who kidnapped and killed hikers. These creatures were supposed to be extinct.

A few weeks later, they had been in a forest tracking the disappearance of some campers. All signs had pointed to a Wendigo and that was how John and Dean had prepared, then they were suddenly attacked by these elf-like creatures. They had managed to get the drop on the Winchesters when Dean had suddenly recognized them from the report that his father had just made him write, and he knew that iron was like poison to them. He grabbed his knife and took care of the first one and John did likewise, and they soon made short work of them. After that, learning about all supernatural creatures, even ones that didn't exist, became a priority, not a matter of punishment.

John realized that was the first time Dean drove. He had been injured in the Noggle attack and somehow, Dean had gotten him into the car and drove him to the nearest hospital. Dean had always been tall for his age and the 13 year old could pass for 16, so John had Jefferson make him a fake driver's license and taught him to drive in case of another emergency. He was brought back to the present as he watched Dean win another hand. Sam, at 12, was almost as tall as his brother and John decided he was going to teach Sam to drive when he turned 13, as well.

Travelling was going to be a little more complicated from now on. John couldn't just pile the boys in the car and take off. First, he had to wait for Dr. Doyle to contact them. She had called him yesterday with the news that she had transferred Dean's medical records to Dr. Alex Conlan at Watertown General Hospital, and instructed the oldest Winchester to get in touch with him when they arrived in town.

Leaving Dean in charge, John left to run a few last minute errands. He had to make sure that he had snacks on hand in case they couldn't get to a restaurant. Then, he had to stop at the pharmacy and refill Dean's prescriptions. Dr. Doyle had recommended having extra insulin on hand, just in case. Plus, he needed to pick up some glucose syringes and several roles of glucose tablets.

John was beginning to wonder if part of the reason why Dean was testing high lately was because he was eating way too many M&M's. He had seen his son eat several handfuls in the last few days. When he questioned his eldest about it, Dean had assured him that he was fine and called it a pre-emptive strike. There seemed to be too many of those lately and John hoped that if he took the M&M's away, Dean would only take the glucose tablets if he really needed them.

Over the course of the day, he and the boys finished packing and loaded the car, so that everything would be ready for the morning. John couldn't wait to get to Bobby's now.

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When the Winchesters awoke early the next day, the rain was pouring down. It seemed fitting as it matched the mood of all three Winchesters.

Sam was in a rotten mood because he had asked his father the night before if he could go and say goodbye to his friends. He would have called them, but the phone had been cut off the day before. John had said no, explaining that he didn't have time to drive Sam all over town and Dean still wasn't allowed to drive. Taking a page from his brother's book, Sam refused to talk to his dad for the rest of the day.

Dean was in a foul mood because his father had told him that he wanted to see all of Dean's readings on a daily basis, to keep an eye on them. It was bad enough that his father constantly reminded him about checking his blood sugar and taking his insulin, now he didn't trust Dean to tell him if there was a problem. Dean didn't understand this as he had warned both Josh and his father about experiencing hypos every morning. What more did he have to do to get his father to believe he could look after himself? There was also the fact that his father had made him throw away his M&M's.

John's mood matched that of his sons'. It was going to be a long drive and Sam's attitude was not helping matters, plus he was worried about Dean. He kept hearing the doctor's words, that Dean's blood sugar was still too high. He vowed to keep a closer eye on things.

They set out. Dean was in the front seat, next to his father, listening to his walkman. Sam was in the back, staring out the window, still refusing to speak to his father. Dean had tried to draw him out, but Sam was determined to be miserable. Trying to placate him somewhat, John told him he could call his friends when they got settled at Bobby's. Sam had informed his father haughtily, that that would be too late. All he got was another three days added to his total for mouthing off to his father.

As the drive went on, things got worse instead of better. What was supposed to take three days turned into six. The first problem was that because Dean was sitting inactive for long stretches of time, it was causing his blood sugar to climb higher. His symptoms had to started to return and the next day, John had had to make several stops for Dean to use the wash room. This scared the eldest Winchester and he put in a call to Dean's doctor. She suggested that John pull over whenever he could, at a campground or park, and let Dean get some exercise. John thanked her and took her advice. It seemed to help and John was grateful for that.

Then there was the matter of where to stop and eat. Fast food places with drive-thrus were the usual choice, but most of those places didn't have a lot of foods that were in Dean's diet. It wasn't that Dean couldn't eat fast food, the dietician had explained there was nothing Dean couldn't eat, but there was a long list of foods to avoid. Plus, he was limited to the number of carbohydrates that he could eat in one day. Lunch at McDonalds was going to take up most of them, so John tried to stick to diners and actual restaurants.

Sam didn't say much on their journey. He spoke if you asked him a question and his answers were short and to the point, so it made the tension really high in the car. It was definitely not making for a relaxing drive and John's shoulders when they stopped each night screamed at him, the tension having tightened them up painfully.

On their fourth day in the car, things seemed like they might be improving. First, the rain cleared up, leaving it a beautiful day for travelling. The extra stops seemed to be helping to keep Dean's blood sugar under control and at the hotel the night before, even Sam seemed to be coming around and joined his father and brother in a family game of poker. John noted that Sam was improving. Dean had been winning all the tooth picks, when John finally caught on that his son appeared to be counting cards. John informed his eldest that he had to hurry up and turn 21 so John could take him to Vegas. Dean lit up at the compliment.

Things even started out well when they hit the road on the fifth day. The batteries on Dean's walkman died and John and Sam teamed up against him and spent the morning belting out country and western tunes. Dean vowed revenge against his father and brother, with a smile still gracing his handsome face. He loved it when his father and brother got along.

Of course, this was the Winchesters and if things were going too well, you could guaruntee that something was going to happen, and of course, it did. It started out innocently enough, with Sam asking a simple question.

"Dad, how long are we staying at Bobby's?" Sam wanted to know.

"I'm not sure, Sammy," John answered. "We're going to be there for the summer at least, and we'll see how things are going then."

Dean could feel already that this was going to get ugly and he really wished he had his head phones to drown out the argument he was sure was about to happen.

"Are we going to be going to school there?"

"I don't know, Sammy. We'll discuss it at the end of the summer," John answered. He really hoped Sam wasn't gearing up for an argument, John was determined to keep his temper in check.

"You mean you'll give an order and me and Dean will be expected to follow it," Sam suddenly found himself saying. It had been in his head one minute and the next..._please tell me I just didn't say that out loud. _

"Samuel," John warned. His patience with his youngest son was really growing thin. How many times were they going to have this argument? "Guess you really do want to be grounded for the whole summer."

"It's not like it's going to matter anyway. My friends are all back in Northside. Did we really have to leave? I still don't understand why you couldn't just get a job there," Sam snapped. He knew he was pressing his luck, but he just couldn't help himself.

Dean threw his brother a look that clearly said shut up.

"Samuel," John said in a forced tone, his frustration growing by the second. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

"But dad..."

"No buts, Samuel, I'm in charge," John ground out, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice.

"Sam, Dad does what he does for a reason," Dean said trying to be the responsible one and keep the peace between his father and brother.

"Sure, Dean, you always side with him. Dad, if you got a reason why, I want to hear it," Sam demanded.

"No, you don't," John cautioned.

"That's because there isn't one. Why'd we leave in such a hurry? You could at least have let me say goodbye to my friends. Dean can't hunt, so it's not like we have to get there quick," Sam argued. He was on a roll and just couldn't stop.

"Gee, thanks for the reminder, Sammy," Dean said sarcastically with a glare thrown at his younger brother. "I forgot that part. Look, Sam, give it a rest," Dean snapped. He did not want to be the subject of an argument between the two people he loved most.

"Enough, both of you. I'm your father and what I say goes. Sam, congratulations, you just extended your grounding until the end of the month," John spat out, tightening his grip on the steering wheel, using it as an outlet for the anger that was growing by the minute with his youngest son. He didn't fail to notice that Dean's body posture had stiffened and he had turned his gaze out the window. He didn't want to get into this argument.

"That's your answer for everything isn't it," Sam countered. He was not about to let this go.

Something in John snapped. He suddenly pulled the Impala over to the side of the road. He turned to look Sam in the eye and couldn't stop himself from blurting out, "I have to pay Joshua back for Dean's hospital stay, and if I got a job in town, I would have had to continue to pay rent and I couldn't afford it on top of Dean's medical expenses. How's that for a reason, is that good enough?"

Sam couldn't answer. He realized that he had pushed too far, he knew it took a lot for his dad to admit that and that he prided himself on not asking for help.

"Answer me, Samuel Francis Winchester. Does that reason meet with your approval?" John forced out.

Sam mumbled a hasty yes, as both his and John's gaze went to Dean. Dean reacted as if he'd been physically slapped, he knew it was his fault.

"Dean..." John started, cursing himself for losing his temper. He wondered if he would have any hope now of ever convincing his eldest that he wasn't responsible for their financial trouble.

"Forget it, dad," Dean interrupted. Both John and Sam watched as his entire body slumped, his demeanour radiating defeat.

"Dean, I told you before that this wasn't your concern and I still mean it. That's an order."

"Yes, sir," Dean mumbled under his breath.

John had no clue what to say to either of his sons at that moment. Sam hadn't meant for Dean to get hurt, so he lost his desire to continue to argue with his father. Dean just returned his gaze to the view outside the window. He refused to speak to either John or Sam.

"Terrific," John mumbled under his breath. He had no idea how to fix this so he handled in a typical Winchester fashion, he ignored it and pulled back on the road, continuing their journey.

They drove along for another hour and John realized they were going to need to stop soon. It was almost dinner time and Dean was due for his insulin dose and he needed to eat. He spotted a diner and pulled in.

"I'm not hungry," Dean immediately protested.

"That's not an option, Dean," John said gently. He knew his son was still upset, but he couldn't let Dean ignore his health. "Don't forget your injection kit," John reminded his son.

Dean grabbed it out of the small cooler that was resting at his feet. He opened the door, jumped out and stalked off toward the restaurant without waiting for his father or brother. Still not knowing what to say, Sam and John wordlessly followed Dean into the diner and took a booth in the back.

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Once he was in the bathroom, Dean laid his kit out on the counter and ran the cold water. He put his hands underneath the stream and splashed some on his face, hoping it would calm his nerves. It didn't. He glanced toward the black leather kit that Joshua had given him. He wanted to hurl it as far as he could, but he knew it would do no good. His father would just have to replace it. Not wanting to take too long, as he didn't want to his dad to come looking for him, Dean went into one of the stalls and unzipped his kit. He closed the lid of the toilet and sat down. He removed a syringe and a vial of insulin, and prepared the needle. He stared at it as he swiped his abdomen with an alcohol wipe and prepared to inject himself. He was extremely tempted to skip it. He didn't want to cause his family any more hardship and he knew it was his fault that they were struggling. He knew this wasn't really an option though, as his father was going now going over his readings with a fine tooth comb, and he really didn't want another lecture. He just gave a long suffering sigh and injected his medication. He recapped the needle, zipped up his kit and exited the stall. He still had the used syringe in his hand.

His mind had been going a mile a minute when he entered the bathroom and he couldn't remember if there was a sharps container on the counter. Some of the diners they had stopped at did supply them. He didn't see one when he exited the stall and not wanting to put it in the regular garbage, he opened his kit back up and dropped it back inside, so he could dispose of it properly later. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't the door opening.

"Jonathan Dean Winchester Jr, what the hell do you think you're doing?" A voice demanded from behind him.

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John was still feeling bad about what he had said in the car and he reminded himself that he really needed to control his temper. He didn't blame Dean, but he knew that his eldest was blaming himself. John felt the need to go talk to his son.

He instructed Sam to wait and not move a muscle as he exited the booth. Sam just nodded.

John wasn't really sure what to say to his eldest when he stepped inside the washroom, but he knew he needed to say something because he would have bet the Impala that Dean was beating himself up over it. Anything he may have come up with immediately flew out of his head when he saw Dean put the used syringe back in his injection kit.

_God damn it, I warned that kid, John thought to himself. _He really wanted to strangle his eldest. What was it going to take to get through to his son? He was _**not **_responsible for the bills.

"Jonathan Dean Winchester Jr., what in the hell do you think you're doing?"

Dean jumped about a foot into the air and quickly turned. "Jeez, dad, you scared me," Dean said as he tried to calm his beating heart. He took in his dad's posture and he knew his dad was upset with him about something. He just had no idea what it was. "Did I do something?" Dean asked in confusion.

"I warned you," John ground out, testing his resolve to keep his temper in check. He was failing miserably.

Dean looked at his kit and he all at once understood what his father was angry about. "Dad, I was going to get rid of it later," he tried to explain.

"After you used it how many more times?" John said, not bothering to hide the disbelief in his tone. "I told you not worry about bills, I can't make it any clearer than that. You're banned from driving the Impala for the rest of the summer, Jonathan Dean."

"I wasn't going..." Dean started and then stopped short. What was the point of trying to explain himself, his dad had already made up his mind. "Never mind. Let's just go eat," Dean said as he stalked off toward the door.

"Don't think this is over. You're lucky we're in a public place, but tonight, at the motel, we're going to have a long talk. No, correction, I'm going to talk for a long time and you're going to listen,"

"Yes, sir," Dean snapped with no sincerity and he exited the bathroom. He left his injection kit on the counter. His father could deal with it.

John watched his son go out the door. He grabbed Dean's kit off the bathroom counter, opened it and pulled out the used syringe. It was easy to tell which one it was as it was the only one not in the elastic holders. John picked it up and looked for a place to dispose of it. Not finding one, he decided to put it in the kit until they got back to their motel. Realization dawned on John as he started to leave the bathroom. Was that what Dean had been planning to do? If it was, why hadn't Dean tried to explain? _Because you made up your mind and he knew it. _John decided there would be a long talk that night, but it would be for all three of them. First, though, he owed Dean an apology.

That had been the plan, but as the day continued and things didn't go as scheduled, those plans flew out the window.

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To say that none of the Winchester's enjoyed their lunch was an understatement. None of them was talking to the each other and the only time they did speak was to give their order to the waitress, and when Dean asked his father if he would get him some fresh batteries for his walkman.

Dean's emotions were all over the place. He was still wracked still with guilt over what his father had let slip in the car and he really hated the fact that his father still didn't trust him. All this was really affecting his appetite and he ended up pushing his food around his plate, not really eating much of it. Sam and John, who were each lost in their own thoughts, failed to notice that Dean didn't really eat.

When they started back out on the road, Dean crawled into the back seat, popped his head phones on his head and refused to acknowledge his father or brother. Of course, he started to experience the effects of not eating almost immediately, and he could feel the first tell tale signs of a hypo.

Dean had eaten next to nothing that day, so the attack came on rapidly. The car suddenly started spinning, leaving Dean feeling sick. He never really had a chance to ask for the glucose tablets that were in cooler lying at Sammy's feet. They didn't have to be kept cold but it didn't hurt them and it was easier to keep everything together. He laid his head against the back of the seat and tried to get his bearings.

John frequently glanced in the rear view mirror, keeping his eyes on his son. Dean seemed to be having a nap and John wasn't surprised, the back of the Impala was like a sleeping tablet for his older son.

The next half hour passed. The tension in the car between himself and Sam, who kept shooting him venom filled looks seemed to be climbing. Wanting to get out of the car before he said something else he regretted, he decided to pull over for a little while. He pulled over at the next rest area that he saw. He needed to get a handle on his emotions so he decided take a break from driving. He was even contemplating letting Dean drive.

"You want a drink, Sammy?" John asked as he spotted a canteen.

"Sure, I'll take a root beer," Sam said tensely.

"Wake your brother would you. The two of you go for a short walk," John instructed warily as he headed toward the canteen.

"Dean," Sam called over his shoulder. "Come on. Dad wants us to go for a walk." Dean didn't stir.

"Come on, sleeping beauty, rise and shine," Sam said as he turned and gave Dean a small shake. Once again, Dean didn't move. "Dean!" Sam said again as worry started to enter his voice. He gave Dean harder shake. "DEAN!!" he said more forcibly. When he couldn't get a reaction, he screamed for his father.

John had been walking back from the canteen, carrying a Coke for himself, a root beer for Sam, and a Diet Sprite for Dean.

**"DAD!!"** He heard his youngest call. John dropped all three sodas, spilling them as he sprinted towards the Impala.

"Sam, what's wrong?" John asked, not bothering to keep the panic out of his voice.

"I can't wake him," Sam said, his voice wavering and his lip starting to tremble.

"Dean," John said as he opened the back door and gave his son a shake. Once again, there was no reaction. John cursed.

"Sam," John ordered as he knelt on the ground beside the open car door. "Grab Dean's kit out of the cooler for me. Now, son, hurry." He was never going to forgive himself if something happened to his boy.

This was one order Sam complied with, without argument. Sam found the case he was looking for and handed it to his father. John opened it and grabbed one of the lancets, hastily putting it into the glucose meter and testing Dean's blood sugar. It was only at 59, dangerously low. He yelled at Sam to get a glucose syringe out of the cooler. He grabbed it from Sam's hand and injected it into Dean's thigh, the needle was large enough to go right through Dean's jeans. He glanced at his watch. A few minutes later, he was just about to tell Sam to go to the canteen and call an ambulance when Dean started to stir.

_Thank God, both Sam and John thought at the same time. _

Dean opened his eyes and was surprised to see his dad and Sam staring at him. _What the hell happened, he wondered. _

"How are you feeling, Dean?" Sam asked his brother.

"I'm fine, Sammy," Dean tried. He was anything but of course. He was still shaky and he felt like he was about to... no, n_ot in the Impala. _

John watched as all color drained from Dean's face and reached over and helped Dean turn so that he was facing the open door. He completed this task just in the nick of time as Dean emptied the meagre contents of him stomach on the ground. John sent Sam back to the canteen to buy another soda. He needed to get Dean's blood sugar up.

"Hey, is he alright?" one of the park security guards said coming up to the Impala after he had seen the kid throw up.

"He's fine... Officer Smith," John said addressing the guard and reading his name tag.

"He doesn't look it," the guard said accusingly.

"He will be, it's just going to be a minute," John said.

Officer Smith spotted the syringe lying on the seat next to Dean. "Hey, I don't know what's going on, but if he's coming down from a high, you have to get him out of here. We try to keep this park clean."

John was insulted, his boys didn't do drugs. "My son is not a drug addict. He's diabetic and his blood sugar dropped too low, so I gave him a glucose shot," John said tensely.

The guard looked at John sceptically, like he wasn't sure he wanted to believe him.

"That true, son?" Officer Smith said addressing Dean.

"I'm not your son," Dean snapped. "And yes," he confirmed.

"You might want to teach him some manners," the guard cautioned John. "I suggest you be on your way." He walked away from the Winchesters, but continued to keep his eye on them from a distance.

John was tempted to pull out his gun and shoot the idiot, but Sam came back with the drinks and stopped him from doing something stupid.

"Hey, buddy," John said gently as he handed Dean the soda and helped him sip it. "How're you doing?"

"I've been better," Dean admitted honestly. "Did I pass out?"

"Yes," John said honestly.

"Again," said Dean in disbelief. "God, I'm such a screw up. I wasn't that hungry at dinner," Dean confessed.

"It's okay, Dean. It's my fault. I should have been paying more attention. I'm just glad you're alright."

Dean looked at his dad. He had to make him understand something. "I wasn't going to re-use..."

John cut him off. "It's okay Dean. I know and I'm sorry, but we'll talk about that later."

Dean was still extremely pale and John knew that he needed to get his eldest to eat something, so he got Sam to get him an orange out of their cooler of snacks and decided he would stop at the first restaurant they to get Dean a proper meal. A short time later, John rechecked Dean's blood sugar. It was high enough that he felt safe getting back on the road. He pulled out and they continued on their journey.

At the motel that night, John forgot all about the talk and instead kept a close eye on his son.

TBC.

Please feed my addiction and review.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Thanks to my beta, Soar and to Sinead-Conlan for betaing my medical facts. Any left over mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

Bobby Singer rose out of bed as the sun was first coming up over the horizon, as was his ususal morning custom. Following his daily routine, he made his way out to his salvage yard and fed the dogs, came back to the main house, showered, dressed and went to the kitchen to do the morning crossword puzzle while he ate breakfast and sipped his coffee.

He sat down at his small table, pen in hand, and looked at the first clue while he ate a spoonful of scrambled eggs, five letters, blank Duchovny of The X-files. Bobby filled in David. That one was easy because it was his favourite show. He regarded the next clue, which was a little tougher. What was a five letter word for the author of Finnegans Wake? Bobby grinned. Sam Winchester would know that one for sure.

He glanced up at the clock. It was just coming up to 6:30 am. Bobby knew it was going to be several more hours before John and the boys arrived and he was really looking forward to seeing them. His affection for them caused him to remember the first time he had met John Winchester and his sons.

It was about nine years ago. Fellow demon hunter, mentor and friend, Caleb Graham, had called and asked him to train a newbie hunter in the art of exorcising a demon. According to Caleb, he had tried it and nearly gotten himself killed. Bobby was all for it until Caleb mentioned that John Winchester wasn't unattached, he had two sons, aged 7 and 3. Considering that most children he had encountered were spoiled brats who got into everything they shouldn't, Bobby was against this idea. Caleb had pleaded, he was in the middle of a case and couldn't leave or he would have trained John himself, so Bobby had suggested sending John to him and the boys to Pastor Jim's, but Caleb had informed him that John wouldn't go anywhere without them. Bobby had eventually conceded, as they had both known he would, and told his friend to send John for training, but with a stern warning that he had better control his children.

Then he met Sam and Dean Winchester. He quickly came to realize that the Winchester boys were anything but brats. He was amazed at the way Dean took care of his brother and Sam was a cute little tyke who loved to talk, mostly about his big brother. Within a week, they had started to find a place in his heart. He started to find Sam's constant chatter amusing rather than annoying. He loved to watch Dean's face light up with genuine pleasure when Bobby took him into the salvage yard with him and taught him about the cars. John became like a younger brother to him. He really hated to see them leave after each visit and he always looked forward to their return.

Bobby returned his attention back to his crossword puzzle and eventually figured out that the answer to the second clue was Joyce, based on the other clues around it. After he finished eating and cleaned up his kitchen, he went into his yard to tend to some business. After spending the morning replacing an engine, he spent the afternoon in his home office, trying to balance his books and was rather proud of himself when he finally figured out where he had gone wrong. He was just putting away his ledger when he heard the familiar rumbling of the Impala's engine and Bobby, excited to see his family, went out to greet them. He got as far as his front porch and stopped short.

Even a complete stranger could see that all was not well with his family. A grimace marred the features of both John and Sam, and although Dean tried to hide it, Bobby only had to look directly into his eyes to see that something was bothering him as well. Whatever had happened, it didn't seem like it had been a pleasant drive. He would get to the bottom of it, though, he had his ways.

"Hey, Johnny, boys," Bobby greeted the members of his extended family enthusiastically, as he walked down off the porch and gave each boy a big hug. Despite everything, both boys returned it wholeheartedly, because they both loved Bobby.

"Hey, Bobby, good to see you," John said to his fellow hunter and friend as the two men shook hands heartily.

"Come on, let's get inside," Bobby said as he waved the Winchesters toward his home. John popped the truck and handed Sam his duffel bag and wanting to be helpful, Bobby reached out and grabbed the nearest bag he saw, Dean's.

"I got it," Dean snapped and reached over and grabbed the bag from Bobby's grasp. _What? Did they think he was an invalid too? _After he had his bag, Dean stalked off to the house, leaving everyone else standing there.

Deciding it was best not to comment, Bobby motioned for the remaining Winchesters to follow him into the house. Accepting his father's bag from Bobby, Sam put it in the den where his father usually slept and then continued down the hall toward the room he and Dean always shared.

Sam put his duffel bag on the bed closest to the wall. He unzipped it and started pulling out his clothes, sorting them into two piles, one to be washed and one to fold and put in the dresser. He looked up and realized that Dean was doing the same. Not owning much and having been on the road for the last six days, the laundry pile was far bigger than the pile that ended up being put in the drawers, so Sam went and grabbed the hamper that Bobby kept on the floor of the closet and began stuffing his laundry into it. Bobby had always said that they were family, not guests, and family was expected to pull their own weight, so Sam knew that if he wanted his clothes washed, he was going to have to do it himself, unless...

"Hey, Dean," Sam said addressing his big brother. "Let's do rock, paper, scissors to see who does the laundry." It was his most hated chore.

"You're on, Sammy," Dean said as he raised his hand and cupped it in to a fist. This was going to be like taking candy from a baby, Sam always went with the paper.

Sam mimicked his big brother's actions and banged his fist into his other hand three times. The youngest Winchester had always gone for paper, but that was all part of his plan. Every time they played, Sam went for paper so Dean would think that was his strategy. Now the prize was something Sam really wanted and after the third tap, he went for the rock.

Dean, of course, chose scissors and he stared dumbfounded at Sam's rock. "You hustled me," Dean accused his brother.

A wide grin appeared on Sam's face. His plan had worked perfectly. "It's called strategizing, Dean," Sam defended himself. "Don't forget the fabric softener," he added as he swung his arm and gave Dean a light tap on the shoulder.

"Okay, laugh now, Sammy, but just for that, I'm turning your underwear pink," Dean threatened as he added his own laundry to the basket and made a big show of adding his red button down shirt to the pile, even though Sam knew it was clean.

Sam was still chuckling to himself as he started to put his things away. There was only one dresser in the room and he usually took the bottom three drawers, leaving Dean the top three. It didn't take long for Sam to put his own clothes away, and hang his few shirts in the closet. He saw the small pile sitting on his brother's bed and Sam decided to do something nice for Dean and put his things away too. After all, it wouldn't take as long as doing the laundry. Sam grabbed a couple of Dean's t-shirts, folded them and went to put them in the top drawer, but when he opened it, he was surprised by what he saw. Dean had taken all his diabetic supplies, his syringe box, lancets, alcohol wipes and glucose meter and had shoved them in bureau. Even his travel kit was there. His brother normally kept his supplies in the bathroom for quick access. Making a mental note to ask Dean about it, Sam put the rest of Dean's clothes away, focusing more on how relieved he was that he didn't have to wash his clothes. He knew Dean was just kidding about turning his underwear pink, right? Sam thought for a moment, this was the big brother that had put Nair in his little brother's shampoo.

"DEAN!" he called out as he ran out of the bedroom toward the laundry room.

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Dean put the first load of laundry in to be washed and headed toward the kitchen. He needed to put his insulin in the fridge and he was really hoping that Bobby wasn't in there. Dean knew that Bobby was aware of the fact that he had diabetes, but he didn't want to leave constant reminders around the house, which was why he had put everything in his top drawer. If his insulin didn't have to be refrigerated, Dean would have left that in his room as well. Bobby was the only person that Dean respected as much as his father and he didn't want constant reminders of his weakness everywhere. Dean's hopes were dashed when he saw Bobby standing by the counter looking in the open cupboard, so he tried to walk quietly through the kitchen and put his medication in the refrigerator.

Bobby watched Dean's actions curiously. He seemed almost shy as he opened the fridge and put something inside. Something was definitely up with him and Bobby was determined to get to the bottom of it. Never one to mince words, he was going to come right out and ask Dean, but then he heard Sam calling for his big brother.

Bobby had heard the washing machine start a few minutes earlier and he glanced at Dean and grinned. "Threaten to turn his underwear pink?" Bobby guessed.

"Yup. Little punk would deserve it if I did. Did you know he hustled me?" Dean asked.

"Must have learned from the best," Bobby said.

"I'll give you that," Dean conceded. "I did teach him well."

"You?" Bobby said. "I was talking about me."

Sam had checked the laundry room and found it empty so he followed the voices and found them in the kitchen. "Relax, Sammy," Dean reassured his brother as he stepped through the open doorway. "Your drawers are safe."

"I knew that that," Sam declared, but he couldn't help but let out a little sigh of relief.

"Hey, Sammy," Bobby said addressing the youngest Winchester. "Settle something for us would you. Who taught you to hustle?"

Sam grinned and said, "Dad."

John stood in the hallway wearing his own grin. No matter how bad things seemed, Bobby's place always managed to be a safe port in a storm. He wasn't stupid enough to think that all their problems had gone away, he knew they would be there in the morning, but he was glad for the temporary reprieve. He thanked his lucky stars the day for Caleb had first sent him here and then stepped into the kitchen and joined in the teasing.

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The connection between Bobby and the Winchesters renewed itself instantly. They spent most of the evening catching up and the truce continued into the evening. Later that night, when the boys were both in bed asleep, John joined Bobby in the kitchen for a beer. Bobby had been wanting to talk to John alone all evening and he was glad he was finally getting his chance.

"How was the trip, Johnny?" Bobby asked conversationally. He knew it was anything but good, but he wanted to hear John's take on it. "Don't tell me it was fine. I know it wasn't," Bobby warned as if he had read John's mind.

"Tense," John described.

"What happened?" Bobby said with concern. He wanted to help.

"What didn't?" John replied and continued when he saw Bobby was about to threaten him if he didn't. "Me and Sam argued and I said something I shouldn't have."

"When don't you?" Bobby said seriously. The eldest Winchester had a really bad habit of putting his foot in his mouth.

John just glared at his friend. He knew it was true, he just didn't like to be confronted about it. "It started when we left. Sam didn't want to go, he kept asking why we were leaving and I lost my temper and blurted out we were moving because of Dean's medical expenses. Dean, of course, took the words the wrong way," John said as he ran a hand through his hair in anger at himself as he remembered the ugly confrontation in the car.

"Tell me he didn't do something stupid again. You told me he reused needles."

"Yup, and God knows what could have happened if I hadn't caught him. No, he didn't do something stupid this time. I did," John admitted. "He was in the bathroom, taking his insulin and I came in just after he finished. There was no place to properly dispose of the syringe and I saw him drop back into his injection kit."

"And you immediately concluded he was going to re-use it," Bobby said accusingly

John felt his frustration growing and tried, unsuccessfully to keep it out of his voice. John knew that Bobby had a real soft spot for his eldest and sometimes, it caused him to ignore certain facets of Dean's behaviour to justify his actions. "What was I supposed to think, Bobby?" John defended himself. "I mean, given what he did and the words I said, anyone would have thought that."

"Okay, John, point taken," Bobby said. He had to admit to himself that it wasn't an unreasonable conclusion that John had come to.

"After that, Dean didn't eat enough and ended up having a hypoglycaemic attack that caused him to pass out. I thought he was sleeping. I mean, thank God I had to make a stop, if I had waited too much longer, Dean could have had a seizure."

"He's okay though, isn't he, Johnny?" Bobby asked with concern. He had wanted to ask Dean all day, but he felt that the boy had to be sick of hearing it.

John ran a hand along his brow, rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache. Bobby recognized this as a sign that he had something he really wanted to say, but didn't know how to. As Bobby expected he would, John started with something he considered safe. "He's doing as well as can be expected," he informed Bobby. "There's still a lot of fluctuation in his blood sugar readings, but from what the doctors tell me, it's normal," John finished and debated about whether he wanted to say the other things that were going through his mind.

"Penny for your thoughts," Bobby offered, trying to draw his friend out.

"Don't think they're worth that much," John replied with a small grin.

"I know there's something on your mind, what is it?" Bobby asked, but instinct told him that John wasn't ready to give it up just yet. The Winchesters weren't much for sharing their feelings.

"It's not important," John said, giving Bobby the answer he had expected. "How's things with you?"

"Can't complain." He decided to try a different tactic to get John to speak his mind. "How's Dean handling all this?"

"Like a trooper," John said with a touch of pride in his voice. "He was upset when he found out about not hunting this summer, but he hasn't complained."

This brought a frown to Bobby's face. "He hasn't complained?" Bobby questioned in disbelief.

"Nope," said John. "What is it?" he asked when he saw Bobby's expression.

"This is Dean we're talking about. He finds out he has a serious disease that's going to affect him for the rest of his life. This causes him to have to be examined and poked and prodded by doctors, which he hates more than anything. He misses the werewolf hunt, something he was looking for ward to more than Christmas. Then, he finds out that he can't spend the summer hunting, which is one of the things he loves most, and he doesn't complain. Doesn't that strike you as odd?" Bobby said pointedly.

John had never thought about it like that. "Well I think he said something about it not being fair that Sam got to go hunting with Joshua, but he got over it," John said obliviously.

"Did he?" Bobby questioned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" John said testily

"Did he really get over it, or did he bury it and pretend it didn't matter?"

John was all set to say that Dean really had put it behind him, when he realized that he couldn't. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair once again in frustration. He hated this.

"What do you want me to do, Bobby?" John asked. "I even went to a support group to try and help him."

"Maybe he needs his own support group," Bobby suggested.

"Good luck with that one," John muttered.

"Have you thought about ordering him to attend?" Bobby asked.

"Yes," John said honestly. "But I would rather Dean go on his own. If I order him, he'd be more resistant then ever. I'm afraid for him, Bobby," he suddenly found himself blurting out.

_Knew that would work, Bobby thought. _"It's only natural, John. Dean's your son."

"It's more than that. This disease scares me more than any demon or poltergeist I've ever wasted. I can exorcise a demon, purify a house, or salt and burn bones, but there's not a damned thing I can do to fix my son. It's too easy for something to happen. If he even skips a meal, he could pass out or have a seizure. If he misses an insulin dose, his blood sugar skyrockets, which can lead to blindness or kidney failure. Hell, Bobby, Dean could even lose a foot if he doesn't notice a simple cut. I'm almost glad he can't hunt right now," John said without even thinking about it. When he was done, he found himself feeling a little better. Talking really did help to get everything of his chest.

Bobby's heart went out to his friend. Bobby had seen John angry, hurt, and covered in blood, but never had he seen the mighty John Winchester look vulnerable. At this moment in time, he reminded Bobby of a scared kid. Using the Winchester gesture of comfort, Bobby reached out and put a hand on his friend's shoulder and said, "All you can do is continue what you've been doing. Be there for him, if he needs you," Bobby encouraged. He didn't much like the situation either and he fully intended to do the same. "I know how independent Dean likes to think he is, but he needs you and if I were you, I would encourage him to talk, order him if you have to. He can't keep pretending this isn't getting to him," Bobby cautioned.

"I don't even know where to start," John admitted helplessly.

"Do you want me to try?" Bobby offered.

John knew he should do it himself, but he was useless when it came to this kind of stuff. It couldn't hurt to let Bobby have a go at it. "I'd appreciate it," John said gratefully, once again thanking his lucky stars for the day that Caleb had sent him here.

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Dean awoke early the next morning. He went to the washroom and then into the kitchen. He didn't normally like getting up early, but everyone was still asleep and he had a specific goal that he wanted to accomplish. Entering the kitchen, Dean went to the cupboard that he knew Bobby kept his cereal in. He hadn't had Lucky Charms in over a month and he really wanted some. Bobby knew it was a favourite of all three Winchesters and there was always had some on hand. Finding the object of his desire, Dean poured himself a bowl, added milk, and then sat down to eat them.

"Morning, Dean," a voice called from behind him. Bobby was an early riser. He had heard someone moving about and had figured it was John.

Dean cursed his luck. "Morning, Bobby," he mumbled and curled himself around his bowl, hoping to block what he was eating from his friend.

Bobby walked over and plugged the coffee pot in. Bobby noticed that Dean had suddenly begun eating quickly, almost as if he was afraid that Bobby would have taken them from him. He had a feeling John would have.

"I take it you're not supposed to be eating those," Bobby commented.

"There's no food I can't eat," Dean stated firmly.

"Then why are you eating them like it's the last bowl on the planet?" Bobby questioned.

Dean just shrugged and went back to his cereal. It didn't take him long to finish and Bobby saw him eyeing the box he'd left on the counter and he knew, without a doubt, that if Dean had been alone, he would have had a second bowl. Bobby knew his earlier suspicions had been correct when the next words out of Dean's mouth were, "Are you going to tell dad?"

"No," Bobby said. He needed Dean to trust that he wouldn't betray him to his father and this gave him a good opportunity.

"I feel like there's a but in there somewhere," Dean said.

"Not really a but, it's more of a condition."

"What?" Dean said warily.

"Help me understand your disease," Bobby requested. His plan was to get Dean talking about the technical aspect of his the disease and then hopefully slip into the personal.

"What's to understand?" Dean questioned.

"Well, your diet for one. I was under the impression that diabetics couldn't eat sugar."

"I have to eat some or my blood sugar gets too low," Dean informed Bobby. "I just have to be careful how much I eat and avoid foods that are high in sugar." Dean stopped, took a deep breath, and admitted that sugared cereals were high on the list foods to avoid. He then filled Bobby in on everything he'd learned from the dietician. Bobby had to admit it was a lot to deal with and he was not about to tell John, but he had a feeling that when John saw Dean's readings, he was going to know.

"It's got to be tough," Bobby stated cautiously. "Having to think about every piece of food you eat, not to mention taking needles three times a day."

Dean stared at his empty bowl and played with the spoon and the remaining milk. "They don't hurt," he said finally as he tried to keep the topic in neutral territory.

"It's still got to be rough," Bobby said trying again.

Dean just shrugged. "It's life," he said dismissively. "Want me to feed the dogs for you?" Dean offered, looking for an escape.

"Sure," Bobby said accepting the offer. He knew Dean wasn't ready to give anything up just yet and pushing him would make him clam up fast.

Dean hightailed it out of the kitchen, leaving Bobby to put Dean's cereal bowl in the sink and the lucky charms back in the cupboard, covering up the evidence.

Of course, Dean paid the price when he checked his blood sugar and found it elevated. He picked up his pen and was about to enter the reading in his diary when he did something he had never done before. He really didn't want a lecture from his father, so he took several points off and entered a false reading that was more on par with the others. He felt guilty about doing it, but it couldn't hurt to do it once, right? Thinking it would help, Dean made a spur of the moment decision to give himself an extra five units of insulin. He really needed to lower his blood sugar if he wanted to get his father off his back.

Of course, lying to his father left Dean feeling guilty and he avoided eye contact at breakfast, alerting John to the fact that something was up. He looked to Bobby for help and as always, Bobby saved the day.

"Dean," Bobby said. "Do you want to come to the salvage yard with me?"

Dean showed genuine pleasure for the first time in days, as he loved working with his father and Bobby around the cars. "Sure," he said enthusiastically.

"John, I need you to go into town and pick up some supplies for me," Bobby instructed the eldest Winchester. This was part of Bobby's new plan, get Dean alone and in a good mood and he might let something slip. John gave Bobby a small smile, conveying his thanks. He also gave Sam permission to call his friends, so that they wouldn't think he had fallen off the edge of the Earth. Sam made a beeline for the phone.

Half an hour later and Sam was wondering why he had even bothered to make friends, Tyler and Michael were not allowed to take his calls. They were both grounded until school started. Kevin refused to take his call, having put two and two together, that just after Sam and his big brother left, the cops showed up. When Sam called Larry, he had to sweet talk his way around Larry's mother, as Larry was also grounded. When Larry got on the phone, he was cold to Sam, blaming him as well. Sam told Larry he was sorry and that he had nothing to do with the cops showing up and informed his friend they were visiting relatives for the summer. Larry said good and hung up on him, and Sam vowed never to make another friend for as long as he lived.

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Dean followed Bobby into the salvage yard. There were several junk cars that Bobby kept on hand that he used for parts and also allowed Dean to practice on. They spent the first hour in an easy camaraderie, with Bobby showing Dean how to change a break line. Dean really lit up when he was working on cars and Bobby enjoyed watching, because it was one of the few things that Dean admitted to having a genuine interest in outside hunting and family, and Bobby was glad to let Dean have a chance to forget about his problems for awhile.

After replacing the head gasket on a client's car, Bobby wandered over to inspect Dean's work. "Pretty good, son, you're a natural at this," Bobby said sincerely.

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean said shyly at the rare praise.

Bobby reached up and wiped the sweat off his brow with a clean handkerchief that he pulled from his back pocket. It was turning out to be a hot day. "Want a drink?" Bobby asked.

"Sure," Dean agreed. This heat was really making him thirsty.

Bobby left and returned shortly with a couple of cans of soda. He had Seven Up for himself and handed Dean a Diet Coke. "Hope that's okay?" he asked.

"Fine," Dean said as he popped the top and took a large gulp of the cool liquid.

"Keep learning the way you are and your daddy's gonna let you work on the Impala soon," Bobby said.

"Yeah, right," Dean said sarcastically.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bobby asked, frowning in confusion.

"He doesn't trust me, Bobby," Dean stated in a tone that told Bobby he wasn't just talking about the Impala.

"Why would you say that?" Bobby probed.

"He questions everything I do," Dean blurted out before he could stop himself.

"About what?" Bobby prompted him and he saw Dean glance toward his medic alert bracelet.

"Every time I have to take insulin or test myself, he reminds me. I _**know**_ I have to, why can't he believe that? Why does he have to watch every reading over my shoulder? Why can't he trust me to tell him when there's a problem?" Dean said not bothering to keep the frustration out of his tone.

"I don't think it's a matter of trust, kiddo," Bobby stated.

"Than what is it?" Dean questioned.

"Did you ever think that he does that because he's worried about you? He just wants to make sure you're okay and we both know your daddy. He has to control everything and your diabetes is the one thing he can't. So he tries to make himself feel better by reminding you when it's time to take your meds because it makes him feel in control. Am I making sense?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah," Dean admitted. "But why couldn't he just tell me that?"

"Did you tell Johnny how you were feeling, that when he reminds you, it makes you feel like he doesn't trust you?" Bobby questioned Dean.

"No," Dean admitted sheepishly.

"My granddaddy always used to tell me that communication is a two way street. You need to talk to your father, Dean," Bobby advised wisely. "I'm sure that you guys can find a compromise."

"It's just that..." Dean trailed off. He looked at the ground and debated running or continuing. To his surprise, he found he wanted to talk. "This whole situation..."

Before Dean could get any more out, a car suddenly turned into the driveway and pulled to a stop in front of the two hunters. "Hello," the man from behind the wheel called out as he and a girl about Dean's age exited the car.

Bobby returned the greeting enthusiastically. Tim Mitchell was a very good friend and now that his daughter Kelsey had gotten her own car, Tim had begun bringing her car to Bobby's as well. He had dropped Kelsey's car off a few day ago and he was there to pick it up. Bobby cursed the timing and found himself wishing that Tim had waited another half hour.

This was actually another of Bobby's plans. He really hated the fact that Dean tended to isolate himself from kids his own age, preferring to hang out with his father or brother. Knowing that John and the boys had been due to arrive yesterday, Bobby had told Tim that Kelsey's car wouldn't be ready until today, so that when he showed up, Bobby could introduce Kelsey to the young man. He had a feeling the two of them would hit it off.

"Hey Bobby, good to see you," Tim greeted Bobby and the two men shook hands.

"You too, Tim," Bobby returned the greeting. "I want you to meet someone." He motioned for Dean to join them. "Tim, Kelsey, this is my nephew Dean. Dean, this is my good friend Tim Mitchell and his daughter Kelsey."

"Hello," Dean said as he shook Tim's hand and he greeted Kelsey as well.

"So this is the Dean you're always going on about?" Tim asked his friend.

The young hunter looked at Bobby in surprise. Bobby had mentioned him? This pleased Dean more than he let on. He turned to Tim and said, "All good stuff, I hope?"

"Said you were going to be better than him, and that he hoped you would consider working for him in the future, so he didn't have to compete with you for business."

Dean lit up at the compliment, but he tried not to show it. "I learned from the best..."

"Let me guess," Bobby interrupted. "Your dad?"

Dean didn't answer. He just gave a big grin. Bobby knew him too well.

They all had a good laugh and Bobby led Tim toward the garage, leaving Dean and Kelsey standing there by themselves.

"Hi," Kelsey greeted Dean.

"Hi," Dean returned the greeting a bit awkwardly. He didn't really know what to say. He had always felt confidant around girls at school, but at school, he wore a mask that hid away his insecurities, and at Bobby's house, he had always felt safe, his walls lowered.

"Are you getting the feeling we were set up?" Kelsey asked with a small smile.

"You think Bobby would do something like that?" Dean asked in a teasing tone.

"Yes," Kelsey replied and she and Dean both laughed.

"Have you known Bobby long?" Dean questioned. He knew that Bobby explained their visits by telling people that he and John were brothers, but he didn't know what else Bobby told people and he didn't want to contradict something.

"About the past 4 years. We moved here from Boston. Dad had a business trip coming up and he desperately needed his breaks repaired and Singer Salvage was the only place that wasn't completely booked. He tried some other places, but he found he liked here best and he and Bobby became friends and now, he's the only mechanic my dad trusts. So when I got my car, he made me start bringing it here for repairs," Kelsey explained.

"My dad feels the same way," Dean replied. "He's a mechanic himself, but if he can't work on the car, Bobby's the only one he'll let get near it."

"I hear you're pretty good around them too, according to what Bobby says anyway."

"You into cars?" Dean asked trying to change the subject. He wasn't comfortable with being complimented.

"Not really," Kelsey admitted truthfully. "As long as it gets me to where I'm going, I'm good. If I hear a strange rattle I just turn up the radio and it goes away."

"I'm guessing the rattle got too loud and that's why you're here," Dean guessed and felt himself starting to relax. He was glad he wasn't going to have to kill Bobby for setting him up.

"Yup," Kelsey confirmed with a big smile.

They continued to talk and Dean found himself liking this girl more and more. She had brown eyes and light brown hair that was pulled back into a pony tail. She was pretty, but not movie star gorgeous and she was a very down to earth girl, not flighty, like some of the girls he had met.

Kelsey regarded Dean and thought that she was glad she got a chance to meet Bobby's nephew. He was as good looking as Bobby had said and he seemed like a genuine nice guy, and she appreciated the fact that he was actually talking to her and not trying to pick her up, like a lot of guys did.

"How long you in town for?" she asked.

"A while," Dean said non-commitally.

"There's a carnival on Monday at the Watertown Fair grounds, me and some friends are going. Want to come?"

Dean found that he did. He really liked Kelsey, but he really wished it could just be him and her, as he wasn't much for crowds, but to his surprise, he found himself agreeing to her suggestion. He just hoped her friends were like she was.

He was about to ask her about them when reality started to kick in, and Dean's decision about taking extra insulin that morning was starting to reveal itself as a really bad idea when he suddenly felt shaky, and he knew he was having a hypo. _You really are a__screw up, you know that, you stupid idiot. _He didn't want to reach into his pocket for a glucose tablet because he didn't want to explain to Kelsey what he was doing, but if he didn't get sugar soon, he was going to pass out. _Think, you dumbass. _

"Want a soda?" Dean suddenly blurted out. He remembered that Bobby kept a small fridge in the garage with cold drinks.

"Sure," Kelsey agreed. "None of that diet stuff though, okay? It's just gross."

"One soda coming up," Dean said. Now he just had to make it the short distance to the fridge without passing out. _Suck it up. You can do this. _Dean took a deep breath and walked as fast as he dared, trying to walk in a straight line. He managed to get there and grabbed two regular sodas. Dean immediately took a sip of his own. He then made his way back to Kelsey and handed her the other drink.

"What's that for?" she said pointing. Dean's bracelet had caught her eye when he had handed her the can of soda. She recognized the medical insignia on the front.

"I'm allergic to penicillin." Dean mumbled the first thing that came into his mind. There was no way he was admitting the truth, not when he had just worked so hard so hide it. He was really glad when Kelsey accepted his answer and didn't comment on it further.

"There's dad. I better get going. Can I call you here about Monday?"

"Sure, Bobby won't mind," Dean replied.

Bobby and Tim had kept a watchful eye on the situation for different reasons. Kelsey was Tim's daughter and Dean, despite the fact that he was Bobby's nephew, was a boy he didn't know. Bobby was just really hoping that his instincts would prove correct.

After settling the bill and a bit of small talk of their own, Bobby and Tim joined he teenagers. Kelsey mentioned to her father about Dean joining her and Miranda and Todd at the carnival on Monday. Tim continued to speak with Dean and his daughter for a few minutes. Dean seemed like a good kid, from Tim's initial impression, and he agreed to Dean's being able to join them for the carnival. Plus, Bobby had assured him that he could trust his nephew and that went along way.

Shortly after that, the Mitchells took their leave and Bobby watched Dean as they drove away. "That Kelsey sure is a nice girl," Bobby commented.

"What?" asked Dean as he turned his attention back to Bobby. "Yeah, she is. Do you think Dad will let me go to the carnival?" Dean said with a touch of doubt in his voice.

"Do you want to?" Bobby asked.

"Yes," Dean said sincerely.

Bobby was glad that Dean wanted to go. It would be something kids his age did. "We'll work on Johnny. Don't worry, son, I'll make sure he says yes."

"Thanks Bobby," Dean said gratefully as he took another sip of his soda and wished he knew Bobby's secret as to how he made his father listen. Bobby was the one person John wouldn't say no to.

"You okay, son?" Bobby said, a touch of concern coloring his tone.

"I'm fine, Bobby," Dean said defensively. He had really appreciated Bobby not constantly hovering over him when they arrived and he knew it couldn't last.

Bobby realized that Dean had no idea what he was talking about and pointed to his soda can.

"Sorry," he said contritely. "I'm fine," he repeated, as this technically wasn't a lie. He really did feel okay now.

"I made sure there was diet in there," Bobby pointed out.

Dean looked guilty. "Kelsey wanted a drink," he said.

Bobby noticed Dean's hands playing with his bracelet, clueing the elder hunter into the exact nature of Dean's behaviour. "You didn't want her asking why you were drinking a diet pop, right?"

"I don't want her to know," Dean admitted truthfully. "I don't want any one to know. I ha..."

"Hey, Bobby. I got those parts you wanted," John Winchester said coming into the yard, effectively stopping whatever Dean had been about to say. Bobby, once again, cursed a friend's rotten timing. Whatever Dean had been about to say never escaped his lips and he wandered back over to the junk car and started tinkering with it.

"Thanks, John," Bobby said accepting the bag. "I have two cars in the garage that need on oil change. Can you start on those?"

"Sure. Want to help, Dean?" John asked his eldest.

"Yes, sir," Dean said as he headed toward the garage.

"Dean wants to ask you something, Johnny," Bobby prompted.

"What is it, son?" John asked.

"Bobbysfriend'sdaughteraskedmeout," Dean mumbled.

"Care to repeat that in English?"

"Bobby's friend's daughter asked me to go out with her to a carnival," Dean repeated slowly.

John considered the request. He had let Sammy go out and look at how that had turned out. He knew it wasn't fair to judge Dean by his brother's behaviour though. Dean was usually responsible, but then again, coming home drunk was the last thing John had expected Sam to do.

"What time is it starting?" John asked. He needed a little more information.

"Kelsey said that it runs all day. She and her friend usually go about 6 in the evening, then stay until they get bored, but I'll be home whatever time you want me to be."

"So that means you're going to have to have supper there," John confirmed.

"I guess," Dean mumbled, wondering what his dad was getting at.

"I don't know, Dean. Carnivals don't usually have a lot of foods that are in your diet, and what about your insulin?" John said worriedly. The only time Dean was out of his sight was when he had been at school, but there he didn't have to remember to take his injection, and there weren't booths and booths of junk food to tempt his son. Plus, there was a nurse on the school grounds and his teachers knew how to handle an emergency.

Dean just stared at his father. He wasn't going to let him go because of his diabetes. It was so unfair, it..._stop it,__Dean, he told himself,__cutting off his thoughts. It won't change anything. _

"Never mind," Dean said as he turned and started back toward the garage.

John was about to go join him when he suddenly felt something connect, not very softly, with the back of his head.

"Bobby, what in the hell was that for?" John said as he reached up and rubbed where Bobby had slapped him.

"If you don't know, then you deserve another, cause maybe that will knock some sense into you," Bobby commented as he raised his hand.

John thought about when he said and realized exactly how Dean would have taken it. "Dean," he said calling his son back.

"What?" Dean huffed.

"You, ah, you didn't let me finish. You can go, but like Sam, there are some conditions, four of them."

"What?" Dean repeated, wondering if he should pinch himself.

"First, you have to look after yourself. Make sure you stick as close to your diet as possible, take your insulin and your bracelet stays on. Second, you have a midnight curfew, the third is to call if any thing happens."

Dean nodded at his father's words. He didn't care what the conditions were, he was just happy that he was allowed to go. His dad's conditions about his disease weren't really conditions, just more common sense and the midnight curfew was something Dean already knew about. It was a prime time for spirits and spooks and under no circumstances were John's boys allowed out, unsupervised, after midnight. That his father wanted to know where he and Sam were at all times was something Dean was used to. He wondered what the fourth condition was.

"Fourth," he heard and his father say and pause.

"What, dad?" Dean asked.

"Have fun, okay, kiddo," John said with a grin and reached over to ruffle his son's hair.

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The next several days passed by quickly and Dean surprised himself by actually looking forward to his night out. He felt slightly guilty that Sammy wasn't able to come, but he was still grounded. However, when he found out that the carnival went on until the end of August, he promised to take Sam after his punishment was over. Sam was still disappointed that he couldn't go though. He loved fairs and made Dean promise to win him a stuffed animal.

Dean and Sam spent the rest of the week training. Just because they weren't hunting, John still wouldn't let them slack off on their training. Dean was hoping the exercise would help his blood sugar as it was still elevated. The problem was that he was so worried about hypos that he was over eating. He had also started to get up earlier, hoping to avoid Bobby as he snuck his morning bowl of Lucky charms. He just couldn't seem to give them up.

Monday arrived and Dean woke up, not feeling all that well. His blood sugar was reading 135, which was high, and he was afraid that his dad was going to take one look at it and tell Dean he wasn't going, so he did what he had done last week. He put down a fake reading of 105, a little high but not too bad. He debated whether or not to play with his insulin dose again, but decided against it, remembering what had happened last time, he didn't want it happening in the middle of the carnival.

He made himself scarce for the rest of the day, fearing he would give himself away when his dad went over his readings and he didn't want anything to stop his evening out, as he was glad to get away for a night. He was really getting tired of everyone hovering over him. Even Bobby was starting to do it.

He was allowed to drive again and his father loaned him the Impala. Before he left, he unfastened his bracelet and stuck it in his pocket. He tried to tell himself that he wasn't breaking his dad's condition. His dad had said that it had to stay on, but he had never specifically said it had to stay on his wrist, and by leaving it in his pocket, it was on his person

When the evening had started out, Dean had truly planned to be good and follow all his father's conditions. He was technically following the rule about the bracelet. _Whatever you need to tell yourself,__Winchester._ Dean had taken his afternoon injection at around four, and made sure to eat a sandwich before he left Bobby's. He also munched on an apple on the way to Kelsey's. He knew that he needed to eat a proper meal, and he didn't think he would have too much trouble with convincing the others to eat right away, as it was close to supper time. Knowing that he was going to be hard pressed to find foods that were on his diet, Dean had made sure to save most of his carbohydrates so he could have a hot dog, or a hamburger.

He picked up Kelsey and she gave him directions to her friend Todd's house. Todd's girlfriend, and Kelsey's best friend, Miranda, was with him. There were some quick introductions and then they were off. Dean found them as friendly as Kelsey and he quickly found himself relaxing. Todd admired Dean's car and the two of them got into a discussion about classics. Kelsey and Miranda just rolled their eyes.

Dean pulled into the parking lot and they all exited the car and made their way to the ticket booths, paid their entrance fee and got a ride bracelet so they could ride anything they wanted, at anytime, so Dean's wrist was only sporting the yellow, plastic bracelet with a big clown picture on it. Dean made a mental note to try and scare his brother with it later. Sammy hated clowns.

True to Dean's prediction, the others all agreed that eating first would be a good thing as they were all starving. They went to one of the food booths and got hamburgers and french fries. When the guy taking the order asked him if he wanted the works, it slipped out before Dean could stop himself. He said yes and asked for extra onions. When asked what he wanted to drink, Dean found himself asking for a coke, he didn't want to have to explain to another guy why he ordered diet, even the girls were drinking regular.

"Hey, Dean," Todd said addressing the young hunter. "Can I drive your car on the way home?"

"Sorry, man. If I did that, my father would ban me from it for life. He's had it since he was my age," Dean admitted around a mouthful of hamburger. He had had others since his diagnosis, but they were plain, usually just with ketchup. Dean was savouring every bite of the bacon and cheese he had on this burger. He swallowed and continued. "You wouldn't believe what it took to get him to let me drive it." _Actually, John had had no choice as he was bleeding rather heavily at the time. _

"Sure is a sweet ride," Todd said enviously.

"Please tell me you're not going to start that again," Miranda stated. She had zero interest in cars. "You do and I swear me and Kelsey are going to give you a whole transcript of the latest chick flick movie."

"Please don't," Dean pleaded and excused himself to go the washroom.

"Let's go play some games," Todd said when Dean returned. "Loser buys dessert," Todd challenged.

"Boys and their contests," Miranda said with a shake of her head. "I want to go on the rides. Last one to the tilt-a-whirl is a rotten egg," she called issuing her own challenge.

The rest ran to catch up with her and went on several rides. Dean's favourite was the bumper cars. He zeroed in on Todd and every time he managed to get out of the corner, Dean bumped him back in. Todd swore and vowed revenge.

After the bumper cars, Dean reminded Todd of his earlier challenge and they headed toward the games. Dean's training and strength gave him an advantage and he quickly won Kelsey a stuffed Panda at the balloon pop. Todd wasted about $5.00 and won a plastic water pistol. The young hunter also made quick work of the ring toss and picked out a stuffed giraffe for Sammy. Dean blushed when both Kelsey and Miranda commented on how sweet that was. Todd won another water pistol. Then they moved to the basketball throw and Todd, who was star player on his school's team, finally won Miranda a stuffed elephant. Deciding that they had wasted enough money, they went back to the Impala and deposited the stuffed animals in the trunk, so they wouldn't have to carry them around all night. Unbeknownst to Dean and Kelsey though, Todd and Miranda had kept the water pistols and they took turns squirting Dean and Kelsey for the rest of the night.

When they re-entered the fair grounds, Miranda reminded Todd that he had to buy dessert. Todd, after enduring some good natured teasing from his friends, left and came back with four candy apples.

Dean watched as the others dug in and made the decision to eat his. He didn't want to call attention to himself. _It was just an apple and apples were healthy, right? Keep telling yourself that,__Dean._

After their snack, they went on some more rides. Then they went into the main arena to watch a magic show and a clown, and Dean found himself wishing that Sam was there so he could tease him. Dean knew his blood sugar was climbing as during the performances, he had to excuse himself twice to use the washroom.

When they left the arena, Todd, Kelsey and Miranda were all laughing at the antics of Nutsy the Clown, but Dean's heart wasn't in it because he had checked his watch and it was just past 9 pm. Dean usually took his evening injection at around this time. His travel kit was in the glove compartment of the Impala, where he had hid it. Todd had already commented on the fact that Dean seemed to need to use the washroom a lot and Dean didn't want to excuse himself again. Since he had been diagnosed, the one thing Dean had not done was miss a scheduled insulin dose. _I can take it later. I mean,__what good is having a flexible schedule if I can't change it. I won't skip it completely. I'll just take it later, Dean reasoned__to himself. _

It wasn't long before the thirst hit him. Given that it was a warm night, Dean's request to get a drink wasn't an unreasonable one and he actually managed to be good and got water, claiming that he was hot. This unfornately led to Miranda's suggestion that they needed ice cream. Once again, Dean waged an internal battle with himself and tried to justify his behaviour. This time, he had no logical explanation. He missed junk food and he wanted an ice cream.

Afterward, he inevitably had to go the washroom and he laughed it off, saying he shouldn't have drunk so much. After a few more rides, they went back to the main area for the evening's main attraction, the Lipizzaner Stallions. Miranda and Kelsey loved horses and while Dean and Todd were not big fans of them, even they had to admit that they enjoyed the show.

Or Dean would have if he wasn't feeling like complete crap by this time. He desperately wanted another drink and he felt himself needing the washroom again, plus his stomach was starting to hurt.

After the show, Kelsey decided that no visit to a carnival was complete without cotton candy and she went and came back with two big sticks, one for her and Dean and one for Miranda and Todd.

This, Dean couldn't justify. The number one food on his list of foods to avoid was cotton candy. It was just like eating a bag of sugar, plus the coloring added more sugar, something Dean definitely did not need. He knew his blood sugar was probably in the stratosphere by now especially since he hadn't taken his evening needle.

Kelsey was watching him and Dean reached over and snagged a small piece and ate it. He really had to stop himself from reaching over and taking more, it had tasted so good. _No, Dean,__you do not want to end up in a coma. _Coming up with the excuse that cotton candy was not his favourite thing, Dean declined more. Fortunately, it was Kelsey's favourite and she happily informed Dean that it was fine with her, because that left more for her. Todd teased him good naturedly about having to watch his figure.

Looking at his watch, Dean realized that he had forgotten about the time, it was it was 11:47 and it was at least a half hours drive home and he still had to drop off the others first. Todd and Miranda had to be home by 1, as did Kelsey. Dean knew how his father felt about him being out after midnight and he was glad when the others didn't seem to mind. He dropped Miranda off first and she told Dean how much she had enjoyed meeting him and the four made plans to go the movies the next night. Dean just hoped they could take Todd's or Kelsey's car. He had a feeling that he wouldn't be allowed to drive the Impala for three days for breaking his curfew. He dropped Todd off and asked if he could use his phone. Dean thanked his lucky stars when Bobby picked instead of his father. Dean informed him he was on his way home, he was just running a little late. Bobby told him that he would tell John but his daddy was starting to get a little testy about one of his boys being out after midnight.

After dropping Kelsey off, Dean pulled over into the parking lot of an all night gas station. He refuelled the Impala and was planning to take his insulin, hoping it would make him feel better. He grabbed it out of the dash and opened his kit. _Is there __**ever **__a time when you don't screw up, you dumbass, _he told himself as looked at his insulin bottles. The clear vial was cloudy and the cloudy bottle was opaque. They were both ruined from having sat in the car on such a hot night. To make matters worse, one bottle had been used once, and the other had only been used twice. He was in for it now. Throwing the open kit on the seat beside him in disgust, Dean drove home.

Dean pulled into Bobby's just before 1am. He was hoping that he could put off his lecture until tomorrow, he was really feeling miserable. He walked into the house and found his dad waiting for him.

John was so worried about Dean being out after midnight that for once, his son's diabetes wasn't the foremost thing on his mind. He was more worried about something supernatural coming after his son. John, not wanting a repeat of the scene in the car, and saying something he would regret, sent Dean to bed, for once without reminding him to check his blood sugar. He would deal with him in the morning.

Dean made his way down the hall. He was feeling so awful by this point that he went directly down the hall to his room, he had planned to get his spare insulin out of the fridge, but he would have to have gone by his dad, and he didn't want to shift his dad's focus. He didn't even bother to check his blood sugar, he knew it was too high. What good would it do to know how high it was. Thankful that Sam was asleep, Dean crawled into bed and curled on his side, almost in a foetal position, with his arms crossed protectively over his stomach. It was killing him.

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John Winchester sensed someone in his room as he was jolted from a sound sleep.

Trying to still his beating heart, John looked at his youngest son standing in front of him.

"What are you doing up, Sammy?" John questioned his son as he checked the clock. It read 2:37 am.

That's when Sam said four words that struck fear into John. "Something's wrong with Dean."

TBC

Please remember to feed my addiction and review.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Thank you once again to Soar for here awesome beta work and to Sinead-Conlan and ImCalledZorro for their medical suggestions. Any left over mistakes are entirely my own.

Disclaimer: Stil don't own them.

Earlier that evening... 12:10 am

John Winchester glanced at his watch for the 10th time in the last 10 minutes. It wasn't like Dean to be late. The boy knew the rule about being out after midnight and John was really starting getting antsy. Midnight until dawn was a prime time for all manner of supernatural beings. Dean might be training as a hunter, but he was still just a kid, more importantly, he was John's kid, and he still had a lot to learn. He couldn't help but look down at his watch again. 12:11 am. He was just about to go ask Bobby for a loan of his car, so he could go look for his son, when Bobby joined him and announced that Dean had just called to say that he was on his way home and should be there shortly.

"Don't be too hard on him, Johnny," Bobby said trying to mediate on Dean's behalf.

"He knows the rule, Bobby. He agreed to it," John replied.

"He did the responsible thing. He called so you would know where he was at. He was probably having a good time and just lost track of the hour. It's only 10 minutes," Bobby reasoned.

"I appreciate your your concern," John said sincerely. "If it was just 10 minutes, I wouldn't have had a big problem, but it's probably going to be closer to 1am before he gets here. What if something happens to him?" John said trying to sound like a disciplinarian rather than a concerned father.

"Dean can take care of himself. The odds of anything happening to him a small," Bobby said.

"He's still a kid and _**anything **_can happen," John said.

"He'll be fine," Bobby said firmly.

John wished he could be as confident as his friend. He knew that if Bobby thought for one second that Dean was in danger, he would be the first the try and rescue him, no questions asked, even if it meant giving up his own life. Although he would have done the same with Sammy, there was no doubt among the Winchesters that Dean was Bobby's favourite and that he had a protective streak toward his eldest. John often wondered why Sam never seemed to show any jealously over this fact. If John had asked his youngest though, he would have received a simple answer, Sam was Dean's favourite and that was good enough for him.

"I'm holding you to that," John stated firmly.

"Good. I'm going to go make sure the dogs are secure for the night, I'll be right back," Bobby said as he exited the room.

John glanced at his watch once more. It was 12:47 am and he finally heard the familiar rumble of the Impala coming up the drive. Breathing a sigh of relief, John was waiting by the door when Dean walked in.

"I'm sorry, dad," he said contritely as he walked through the door. "I just lost track of the time."

"You know the rule," John said in a forced tone as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"I'm sorry," Dean apologized again. "Did Bobby give you the message?"

"Yes. It was responsible of you to call, I will give you that," John conceded.

Dean really hoped that his father wasn't gearing up for a lecture, he was feeling worse by the minute. His throat felt like he had swallowed sandpaper, it was so dry, and the pain in his stomach was getting worse. He felt that if he didn't lie down soon, he was going to collapse. John uncrossed his arms and walked toward the window, never really looking at his son. He opened the curtains and peered out into the darkness, his mind thinking of all the things that could be lurking out there.

"Three days, no Impala, right?" Dean said. He was hoping that by jumping right to the punishment, his dad would agree and send him to bed. He really needed to use the washroom, and if he waited much longer... well it wasn't going to be pleasant.

"Yup," John agreed. "Plus, you're grounded for the next three days, as well." He kept his gaze focused out the window, he was worried that he might say something he would regret if he faced his son, besides, if Dean was grounded, John could keep an eye on him.

"But dad," Dean protested. "Me, Todd, Miranda and Kelsey were planning to go to the movies."

"You break your promise and your curfew, and you think you should be allowed to go the movies. Forget it, Jonathan Dean, discussion closed," John said, his temper rising. This was something he expected from Sam, he wasn't used to it coming from Dean. When Sam had been caught drinking, John had let himself calm down overnight, it was only fair that Dean get the same courtesy. "Go to bed. We'll talk in the morning."

Dean was about to protest again, but he really was in no shape to get into it with his father, plus he didn't want his dad asking his about what he had eaten that evening, or his blood sugar reading. He wouldn't have been able to lie. "Yes sir," Dean muttered with as much respect as he could muster and he went towards his room. He knew he should get his spare bottle of insulin out of Bobby's fridge and take his meds, but in order to get to the kitchen, Dean would have to walk past his father, drawing attention to himself, and he really wanted to avoid that, so he went to the washroom, took a long drink from the tap and went to bed, hoping he would feel better in the morning.

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John was jolted out of his sound sleep. He looked up and saw his youngest son standing by his bed. He glanced toward his beside clock and saw that it was 2:37 am.

"What are you doing up, Sammy?"

That's when Sam said the four words that struck fear into John. "Something's wrong with Dean."

Instantly awake, John jumped out of bed. "What's wrong with him?" John demanded in a tone that was none too gentle.

"I don't...I don't know," Sam said, his lips quivering and eyes filling with tears. Hell, if he didn't know better, he would have sworn that his father was about to panic. John Winchester never panicked and it scared him. "I got up to use the bathroom and he was lying on his side, clutching his stomach like he had a stomach ache. I asked what was wrong and he said that he was fine, but he's not, dad, you can tell. He sounds really shaky and he's sweating like he has a fever, but he doesn't because he's really pale," Sam managed to say. He wanted his dad to fix Dean. His dad could fix anything.

"Sammy, go wake Bobby. I'm going to check on your brother," John instructed forcibly.

John set a new land speed record running down the hall to his sons' room. He flicked on the light and realized exactly what Sam was talking about. Dean was sheet white, not an ounce of color anywhere and there was a fine sheen of sweat covering his forehead. John put the back of his hand to Dean's forehead, checking for fever. He found none. _Had he looked like this when he came in?_ John couldn't honestly remember. The last time he had seen Dean looking like this was when his blood sugar had dropped too low.

"Do you need a glucose shot, Dean?" John tried to ask.

"_**NOO!!!**_" Dean cried out. More sugar was the last thing he needed.

John was taken aback by the vehemence of Dean's cry. "Dad, it hurts," Dean said in a voice that made him sound like a little boy.

"Where, son?" John asked gently.

"Stomach," Dean said through clenched teeth. Despite the fact that his dad was going to kill him when he found out what he had done, Dean was glad his father was there, he could fix anything. "I think I'm going to...' With that, Dean raised his hands to his mouth, trying to stop the inevitable.

John reacted instantly, grabbing the trash can and helping Dean to lean over it. Dean stopped fighting and he instantly rejected everything that was in his stomach.

"It's okay, Dean," John said lightly, supporting his eldest and rubbing his back in small circles, trying to offer what comfort he could.

"Johnny," Bobby said as he and Sam came in the room, just as Dean's stomach revolted once more. He came over and knelt beside John.

"Sam, grab your brother's glucose meter. Bobby, can you stay with him? I want to call his doctor," John said. He felt helpless and issuing orders was allowing him to take back some measure of control. He rose and felt Dean's grip on him tighten.

"Bobby," John said, as he read the hidden meaning. _Don't leave me._

"I'll call his doctor, Johnny. He needs you," Bobby said reading his friend's thoughts as well as Dean's actions as he reluctantly left the room.

"Dad, it's not in the drawer," Sam said as he stood by open dresser where Dean kept his supplies.

John tried to remember if Dean had had his injection kit in his hand when he came in. He had been so focused on controlling his temper he hadn't noticed. "Run and check the car, he may have left it there. Hurry, Sam," John instructed. Sam took off out the door. This was one order he didn't need to be told twice.

"I'm sorry, dad," Dean moaned. "I screwed up."

"Easy, son," John said gently as helped Dean to lie back down.

"John," Bobby called as he returned to the room. "I got a hold of Dr. Conlan's answering service. They're going to page him and have him call us back." He turned his attention back to Dean. "How you doing, big guy?"

"Not so good," Dean said honestly. "I screwed up," he repeated.

John really didn't like the way his son looked. If it were possible, he was even paler. _Hurry up, Sammy. _"Bobby, new plan, I'm not waiting for his doctor, we're taking him to the hospital. Can you help me get him to the car?"

"Sure," Bobby agreed just as Sam came back into the room.

"Here, dad," he said handing John the glucose meter. He was debating whether or not to show his dad the vials of ruined insulin. He didn't want to get his brother in trouble, but if they were destroyed, it was possible that Dean hadn't had any. He had to tell his father. "Um, dad," Sam added and held out the two ruined vials.

John cursed, as did Bobby. They both came to the same conclusion that Sam had. John, at that moment, also noticed Dean's wrist which only sported the carnival bracelet. _God, damn that kid. Calm down,__John, you can kill him after you find out he's alright. _

John quickly tested Dean's blood sugar and he felt his fear ratchet up another notch when it just read high. That meant Dean's meter didn't go high enough for Dean's reading to register. It only went as high as 300. Seeing Dean's readings over his father's shoulder, Bobby's thoughts echoed John's. _He better be alright so I can kill him myself. _Seeing that Dean's blood sugar was higher than when he had been diagnosed, John grabbed his son, with Bobby's help and bolted for the car, Sam right behind them.

John sat in the back seat, while Bobby drove. They ended up having to pull over twice more on the way when Dean's stomach revolted. John sat with Dean cradled next to him. He had never felt more helpless.

It didn't take them long to reach the hospital, pulling up in front of the emergency doors in a squeal of protesting rubber. They quickly scrambled to escape the car and John finally burst through the doors to the ER and explained his son's condition. It wasn't long before an orderly approached with a guerney. John laid his son down, and before he could say anything, Dean was whisked away behind a swinging door.

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Dean knew he was in a hospital room before he even opened his eyes. He could feel the tell-tale signs of an IV in his hand, actually, it felt like he had them in both hands. There was also something stuck inside his elbow that was bugging him. He forced his eyes open, only to be met with the sight of two IV poles. He was right, he did have one in the back of each hand. The pole on the left had two bags and to one of them was attached to a third line running into the inside of his elbow. He cast his thoughts back, wondering what had brought him there. The events of the previous night were a blur, he remembered going to bed, his father coming into the room, throwing up and that was about it. He cursed his luck. _How could I be so stupid? God, I'm such a worthless screw up._

He wanted to tell his father how sorry he was and looked around for him, and that's when he realized that his father wasn't there. He _**hated **_hospitals, but even more, he hated being alone when he was in one. It made him feel forgotten. His dad must be really pissed if he had left him alone. _Not that I blame him. I would have left my sorry ass too, Dean tried to tell himself. _It didn't work. He was getting restless and just as he was about to pull out the multiple IVs he was attached to, Bobby walked in the room.

"Morning, son," Bobby said lightly.

"Where's dad?" was Dean's reply.

Bobby could see how tense Dean was. There were only two other people besides John that knew the full story of why Dean didn't like to be by himself in a hospital room. John had confided in him and Pastor Jim. Even Sam didn't know the whole story and he wasn't even sure how much Dean remembered himself. "Relax, kiddo, your dad didn't leave your side all night. He's just out in the hall talking to your doctor. They'll be here in a minute," Bobby said trying to reassure the young Winchester. Bobby was relieved when Dean visibly relaxed.

"Where's Sammy?" Dean then asked. Bobby and his dad were here and they wouldn't have left Sam home by himself.

"Asleep down the hall, in the nurses' station. You father had to pry him from your side. He's fine."

"Good," Dean said as his right hand started to creep toward the needle inserted into the back of his left.

"Dean, leave it," Bobby instructed firmly.

"It itches," he complained.

"Still, leave it before you pull it out," Bobby said as he placed his hand on Dean's to stop him and waited for the inevitable question.

"When can I get out of here?" Dean asked.

"When your dad says," Bobby answered vaguely. He had known it was coming. Fortunately, the elder hunter was saved from being interrogated further when John, the doctor and Sam entered the room.

"Good morning, Dean. I'm Dr. Alex Conlan. How are you feeling?"

Dean could feel his fathers glare. "Not so hot," he admitted.

"It's not surprising. Your blood sugar was well over the three hundred range. It's a good thing your father brought you in when he did, you were in diabetic ketoacidosis. That's when your blood becomes more acidic than your body tissue. I'm guessing Dr. Doyle covered this," the doctor said.

"Yeah," Dean mumbled as his hand moved toward the IV needle again.

"Can you explain to me why you didn't take you insulin dose?" Dr. Conlan asked.

Dean just shrugged. His hand was now at the edges of the tape.

"Dean," John said in a warning tone.

Reading the hidden meaning that clearly told Dean to answer the doctor and quit playing with his tubes, Dean dropped his hands to his sides and gave a long suffering sigh. He wished they would all just go away and leave him alone. _Well maybe dad can stay. _"When can I go home?" he asked.

"I'll make you a deal, you answer my question, and I'll answer yours?" Dr. Conlan offered.

"I want to go home," Dean said addressing his father and ignoring the doctor.

"When Dr. Conlan says you can," John answered.

"Dean, why did you skip your injection last night?" the doctor repeated.

"He was out with friends last night. He probably just didn't want to call attention to himself. Right?" Bobby answered, eliciting a frown from both John and the doctor. He didn't like seeing Dean looking so dejected.

Dean gave an almost imperceptible nod. "What happens now?" John asked.

"We'll continue to treat Dean with IV fluids. We have to replace the fluid he's lost as his body was working to expel the excess sugar. That's why he was sweating and vomiting and he lost a lot of nutrients as well. That's why you're getting this IV, Dean. We're toping off your potassium and electrolytes." Dr Conlan said pointing. "That's an Insulin feed tube. It's feeding insulin directly into your blood stream and I'm going to leave it in for another 24 hours. Your blood sugar's still way higher than where I would like it to be. Depending on your readings, we'll remove it tomorrow and start you back on your injections, you're getting a break from them today."

"Oh goody," Dean mumbled sarcastically, drawing yet another glare from his father.

"My nurse should be in with your breakfast soon," the doctor said.

"I'm not hungry," Dean informed the room.

"It doesn't matter. You know you have to eat," Dr. Conlan said.

"Fine," Dean muttered and turned toward the wall, his back to everyone, effectively telling them he was done talking.

"You can page me if you have any questions. Mr. Winchester, can I see you for a moment?"

"Sure," John said as he rose from his chair.

"Sorry, I meant your brother."

Since only family was allowed to visit, they had kept up the cover story that John and Bobby were brothers. "Call me Bobby," he said as he followed the doctor in the hallway, not bothering to correct his mistake.

"Bobby, you and your nephew seem close."

"We are."

"I hope you don't take what I'm about to say the wrong way, but I need to ask you to refrain from answering when I ask Dean a question," Dr. Conlan informed Bobby.

Bobby scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "It's just, I know him. You wouldn't have gotten one and just succeeded in upsetting him," Bobby informed the doctor.

"I know. I wanted him to react," Dr. Conlan explained. "Now, before you get upset, let me explain. I knew the answer to my question before I even asked it. Your brother told me Dean was out with friends at a carnival last night, but I wanted him to admit why he had done it. It's the only way he's going to accept the fact that he has diabetes."

"He knows he has it," Bobby said defensively.

"I didn't say that," the doctor corrected. "I said accept. I can understand not wanting to be different and stick out among your friends, but the fact is, he has to look after himself. DKA can be fatal. He was lucky he came in last night. He can't put his body through this every time he goes out," Dr. Conlan said.

"I think he learned his lesson," Bobby said defending John's eldest.

"You'd be surprised. Answer me this, Bobby, what if he went out tomorrow and was faced with the same situation?"

Bobby could see what the doctor was talking about and he honestly had to admit that it was most likely that Dean would never admit to someone that he was diabetic. He didn't agree with the doctor's response that Dean hadn't accepted his disease though. He just didn't want to admit what he perceived as a weakness.

"I don't mean to sound harsh. I know Dean means a lot to you, I can tell. I'll back a little later. Please, think about want I said."

"I will, doc, thanks," Bobby said as he went back to Dean's room.

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The morning passed really slowly for Dean. It seemed like he was being stuck with something sharp every time he moved. Sam spent the morning with his brother, so John could make a run back to Bobby's and get some supplies, but Bobby remained behind as well. Dean was grateful for their presence, as he was dreading being left by himself with his father as much as he also craved the older man's reassuring presence. He knew he had a lecture coming and that he deserved it, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

It came much too soon for his liking. Bobby had to go out of town over night, he was going to see Jefferson Ames, a fellow hunter, to help with a poltergeist. He promised he would be back early the next morning though. He didn't like leaving with Dean in the hospital, but a 14 year old girl had already been badly hurt and it had to be taken care of before someone ended up dead.

Needing caffeine, Bobby volunteered to run down the cafeteria for some coffee. He had a couple of hours before he had to leave.

"Hey, Sammy," John said addressing the youngest. "I want you to get some experience with poltergeists so I'm going to let you to tag along with Bobby."

Sam didn't really think this was a good idea. He was not into hunting like the rest of his family, plus Dean was in the hospital and Sam didn't want to leave his big brother's side. "Do I have to?" he asked, even though he knew the answer.

"I want to…" Dean tried. He really wanted to go.

"Sure and you can take your friend Ivy with you," John said sarcastically as he motioned to Dean's IV pole and pronounced the initals like the name.

"Doc can pull 'em. I feel better," Dean said obstinately.

"Nice try. We talked about this, Dean. Even if you weren't in here, you still wouldn't be going," John insisted. "No hunting until..."

"Yeah, yeah, no hunting until I'm stable," Dean interrupted. _Like that's__ever going to happen,__he mumbled under his breath, so low that__no one heard him._

"Dean, attitude," John warned, earning himself a half-hearted sorry from his eldest. "You should go with Bobby, Sammy. You've only hunted one poltergeist, it would be good experience for you."

"I don't want to," Sam immediately protested.

"I'll take his place," Dean offered once again.

John wanted to scream at his boys' stubbornness. They must get that from their mother. _Whatever you need to tell yourself, John._ "Samuel, Jonathan Dean, enough," John said forcibly. "Sam, you're going hunting with Bobby, Dean you're not, end of discussion."

"But, dad," both boys said at once.

"What part of the words end of discussion didn't you understand?"

"I don't want to leave Dean," Sam said, ignoring his father's words.

"Dean's going to be fine, Sammy."

"Sam's grounded, how can he be allowed to go?" said Dean with a sulk. This was _**so **_not fair. Sam got to go on the werewolf hunt and now this one, and he didn't even want to.

"Because I'm the father and I make the rules," John said letting frustration creep into his voice.

"Here, Johnny," Bobby said as he came into the room and handed John his caffeine, and an iced tea for Sam. He felt bad that he didn't have anything for Dean, but he didn't want to interfere with whatever treatment plan the doctor had him on, and he wasn't sure what Dean was allowed, or not allowed to have. "What happened?" he questioned as he felt the tension between all three Winchesters.

"Sam wants go on the hunt with you," John said with a glare towards his youngest son, as if daring him to contradict him.

"Yeah," Sam mumbled.

Bobby knew the truth, there was no way Sam wanted to leave. Dean was sick and there was no way Sam would volunteer to leave his side. "I would love to have you, Sammy," Bobby said speaking the truth. He knew Sam was a capable hunter, even if it wasn't his favourite thing.

"John, you know this poltergeist is a nasty piece of work?" he asked. "It would be dangerous."

"I know, but Dean dealt with one when he was 11. Sam needs this, just please keep an eye on him," John said.

Bobby was worried. He had no choice but to go, but he really didn't want to leave John alone with Dean right now. He knew father and son had to have a talk, but this was the worst time. John was angry, not that Bobby really blamed him, Dean had messed up big time yesterday. The biggest concern Bobby had was that John was scared, terrified that something could have happened to one of his sons and when John Winchester felt like that, it came out as anger. In addition to that, John was going to worry while Sam was hunting.

"You sure, Johnny?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah," John said. He knew that Bobby would look after Sam and while John had a few personal issues with Jefferson's approach to hunting, he was a good man and an excellent hunter and John knew that he would look out for Sam as well. After all, he had saved John's life once before.

Knowing that his father's mind was made up, Sam said goodbye reluctantly and followed Bobby out the door and Dean finally found himself alone with his father.

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Before John could start, Dean's nurse, Helen, came in for a blood sugar check and informed father and son that it was 213. His IVs were almost empty, so she replaced the fluids. Dean was relieved when she didn't replace the other bag and instead pulled the needle from the back of his hand.

"Alright, Dean," John said seriously when the nurse vacated the room. "I'm not going to ask what the hell you were thinking last night because obviously, you just weren't. Just tell me why?"

Dean almost pointed out to his father that they were the same question, but fortunately for him, he restrained himself from doing so. It wouldn't have gone over too well. Dean stared at his hands and once again started playing with the IV line in the left. "I blew it," Dean said.

"Darn right you did, but that doesn't answer my question?" John persisted.

_I didn't want to stand out. _"No reason," he said out loud.

"You don't do anything without a reason, now spill. It's an order."

"I um, I wanted..."

"Good evening," Dr. Conlan said brightly, stepping into the room.

_He couldn't__have just waited five more damn minutes. _"Hey Doc," John greeted.

"I just saw the results of Dean's latest blood work. Your blood sugar's coming down nicely. If you continue to improve, we should be able to remove the feed line tomorrow as scheduled."

"Can I go home?' asked Dean stubbornly.

"Not for a few days. That's part of the reason I'm here. I want to discuss Dean's new insulin regime with you," the doctor explained.

"My what?" Dean asked. He didn't like the sound of that.

"I took a close look at your diary and I've noticed that for the most part, you're running high, which means you're not getting enough insulin, so rather than just increasing the number of units again, I want to try spreading it out more throughout the day."

When he was done, Dean learned that he was now required to take four injections per day, in the morning, before lunch, before dinner and before bed. _Great, as if dad wasn't having a hard enough time, now I'm gonna go through everything faster. _

Dr. Conlan could see the look of guilt come over his patient. "Look Dean, last night certainly didn't help, but it's not the only reason I'm making this change. I'm basing it on the pattern of your readings.

Dean froze at this remark. Some of them weren't entirely accurate. It looked like he was going to have to admit what he had done. He wondered if the doctor had the phone number for witness protection, he was going to need it after this.

"Um, I um, that is I..."

"What is it, son?" John asked when he noticed that Dean was really starting to fidget.

"Some of those reading aren't entirely accurate," he admitted.

"God damn it, Dean," John growled.

"How many?" Dr. Conlan said sharply as he laid Dean's diary on the table, indicating that he wanted Dean to show him which ones.

"Two," he replied truthfully, pointing out his reading on the day after they arrived at Bobby's and the one when he awoke yesterday.

"You're sure that's it?" the doctor asked sceptically.

"Yes," Dean said softly.

"It's really important that you tell me the truth here. Did you change any others?"

"He told he didn't," John suddenly snapped firmly. He didn't appreciate this doctor insinuating that Dean was lying.

"It shouldn't have an impact. Just make sure that everything's accurate from now on. We have to know the truth if you're going to start feeling better. I want to keep you here and monitor your blood sugar closely to see if the new schedule's working, or if we need to adjust it again," Dr. Conlan said. "I'm going to send for the dietician in a bit, to go over the adjustments in Dean's diet. Mr. Winchester, can I see you for a moment please."

"Sure. Dean I'll be right back."

"Me and Ivy will be waiting," Dean replied.

"You better be," John warned as he followed the doctor out in the hall. "What's up?" he asked the doctor once they cleared the doorway.

"I just wanted to run this idea by you."

"What's that?"

"Dean's an athlete, right?"

"Yes," John admitted. It was technically true.

"I've been working with diabetics for almost 20 years and I've seen all manner of patients. One of the biggest things I've noticed with athletes is that they're most worried about suffering from hypoglycaemia during a game and letting their team down, so most tend to go outside their diet plans and over eat, causing hyperglycaemia. So what I want to do is start Dean on physio. Let him see in a controlled environment that following his meal plan and exercising is not going to cause him to have a hypo. I have tried this in the past and it has worked."

"That sounds like a great idea. Just one thing," John said as he signed the permission slip that the doctor handed to him.

"What's that?" the doctor asked.

"The next time you want to discuss my son's treatment, make sure he's included in the conversation." With that, John went back into the room and explained the plan to Dean. He didn't have the same enthusiasm as his father though.

Claiming he was tired, Dean rolled over and asked his dad if they could talk when he woke up. John knew that Dean must be feeling really miserable if he was willing to take a nap, so he agreed and pulled the covers up around his son's shoulders, patting the young man roughly.

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A couple of hours later, Dean awoke. He looked over and saw his dad watching TV. It was really tempting for the young hunter to pretend to remain asleep, but he knew that his dad was not going to be put off forever. _May as well get it over with._

_"_Hey dad," Dean said as he rubbed the sleep out his eyes.

"Hey son. Feeling better?" John asked.

"A bit. I'd sleep better if I was in my own bed though."

"Drop it, Jonathan Dean," John said firmly.

"Sorry sir," Dean said, but not sounding as if meant it.

A quick glance at the clock showed it was nearing time for Dean's evening snack. Not wanting to risk getting interrupted again, John waited until Dean had eaten and had his evening check up. He was ecstatic to hear that Dean's blood sugar had dropped below 200.

"You were lucky that you didn't do any permanent damage," John commented.

"I know," Dean said contritely, not looking at his father.

"Look, I know it must be hard, but you have to start taking better care of yourself," John started his lecture.

_No, you don't, you can't know. _"I won't do it again, dad, I promise."

"Right now, that doesn't mean much to me. You promised to follow the conditions when you went out and you didn't."

"I'm sorry dad, I... oops," Dean suddenly blurted out. The eldest Winchester looked down at Dean's hands. He could see red seeping out from behind the tape that held Dean's IV needle in place. It didn't take long to realize that Dean had been playing with it again and accidentally pulled it out.

"Dean," John started. "Never mind," he said as he pressed the call button for the nurse.

Helen came and changed Dean's IV to his other hand. He got a lecture on the importance of leaving his tubes alone, and she let him know that if he touched it again, she was going to bind it, like they did with young children. Dean couldn't believe it when he found himself missing Betty.

"Dean, you listening to me?" John addressed his son when Helen left.

"Yes sir," Dean said.

"There's going to be some new ground rules. From now on, whenever it's time for your injection, or to test your blood sugar, you're going to find me or Bobby so that we can make sure you're doing it. You're not to go anywhere without me or Bobby, so we can make sure that you're not eating stuff you're not supposed to, and you're to ask and make sure I know what your blood sugar reading is before you eat so much as a carrot stick. Are we clear?" John lectured.

The young hunter lay in his bed in a state of shock. Was his dad serious?

"Dean," John prompted.

"Yes sir," he mumbled, his eyes anywhere but on his father.

"It's going to be a long time before you earn back my trust," John commented harshly.

Dean couldn't help himself and he gave a loud scoff. "Like I had it in the first place," he mumbled just loud enough for his father to hear.

"Excuse me," John said as he glared at his eldest.

Dean knew he should tell his father his he was sorry, but something in him wouldn't let him say the words. "I. Said. I. Never. Had. It." Dean repeated slowly. _Shut up._

"You want to clarify that, Jonathan Dean," John said, trying to keep his temper in check.

"How can I lose your trust when I never had it in the first place?" Dean said, throwing the words back at his father. His own temper rising.

"I trusted you," John said slightly bewildered by his son's attack.

"Yeah, right. That's why every time I turned around it was 'Dean, it's time for your insulin,' 'Dean check your blood sugar.' 'Dean, did you eat?' You all kept telling me it is _**my**_ disease and _**I **__need_ to learn how to manage it, but _**none**_ of you would let _**me**_," Dean started forcibly.

"Look, Jonathan Dean, that's enough. This isn't easy, I know that..."

"_**NO**__**YOU DON"T!!!!" **_Dean finally exploded. Weeks of burying every feeling he had came bubbling to the surface and he erupted like a volcano. "You don't know what it's like. You can't know. You don't have to take needles every day, you don't have to prick your fingers and test yourself. You don't have to consider every God damn piece of food you put in your mouth. Do you know what it's like, feeling like you're the cause of your family's financial problems? Do you know what it's like to go to school and have people afraid to come near you? My lab partner didn't even want to touch the same equipment I did. Do you what it's like be accused of being a junkie? Did you know that they stuffed my locker full of sugar? Do you know what hypos feel like, or the worry of having one at the worst possible time? Are you chained to syringes and insulin vials like I am? Do you have to make sure you carry all that crap with you every time you walk out the front door? Do you want to know why I did what I did? I didn't want to be the center of attention for once. I wanted to be myself. I wanted to hunt that werewolf, dad. I wanted it bad. It was important to me and I want to hunt this summer, and I can't because of this _**STUPID DISEASE! I HATE IT! I HATE ALL OF IT!" **_With that, Dean grabbed his walkman off his bedside table and hurled it against the wall. After his outburst, Dean collapsed back on his pillow, completely spent. He immediately turned on his side, away from his dad. He couldn't believe he had said all that out loud.

At the end of Dean's tirade, John was speechless. He cursed himself for allowing Dean to bury all of that. He should have paid more attention to his son, rather than his son's blood sugar readings, and they might have avoided this situation. He owed Dean a big apology, Sam as well. John suddenly wished that he hadn't sent Sam on this hunt. He found himself missing his youngest son and the calming influence he had on his brother. He walked over to the other side of the bed and pulled a chair over. He placed a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," his eldest mumbled with his eyes closed.

John really wished that Bobby was here now. He wasn't good with touchy, feely, emotional stuff. "Don't be sorry, buddy. You needed to get that out and you know what? You're right."

This caused Dean to open his eyes. He had to make sure he had heard that right. He just stared at his dad. "I did say you're right," John confirmed. "I don't know what it's like for you. There are people who do though. I talked to Dr. Conlan last night and he said that there's a..."

"I don't want to go to any stupid support group. I just want to be left alone," Dean said stubbornly.

"Dean, I want you listen to me. It was never a matter of trust, bud. I did trust you. I was just scared, Dean."

This surprised Dean more than his father admitting he was right. His dad was never scared.

"Is everything all right in here?" Helen said as she stepped into the room, she had heard the yelling.

_Not this time. No one was interrupting this. _"Everything's fine. He just dropped his walkman," John said giving her the eye. His meaning was clear. _Get out. _

"Visiting hours are over soon," Helen said as she left the room.

"Dean, it would kill me if anything happened to you or your brother. You two are my whole world. I could see you suffering and I couldn't do a damn thing about it, so I took control the only way I know how. Giving orders. I'm sorry, son."

"Me too," Dean conceded with a small smile. "That's what Bobby said."

"He's a smart man," John agreed.

"Don't tell him that…" Dean said.

"It might go to his head," John finished and returned his son's smile.

"Did you mean all that stuff you said?" Dean asked tentatively.

"Let's discuss it when you get home. I'm sure we can find some way for me to feel in control and for you to feel like I trust you."

"'Kay. I'd like that," Dean admitted softly. John could see that Dean was fading once again, his outburst having taken its toll.

"You get some sleep. I, ah, I love you, Dean," John said roughly with a rare show of emotion.

"Me too, dad," Dean said as he closed his eyes and drifted into the most peaceful sleep he'd had in a while.

John watched his son sleep, his mind going a mile a minute, worrying over his sons. This led to John making a really big mistake. He forgot all about Dean's fear of being alone when he was in the hospital, and when they announced visiting hours were over, John got up and left. He really needed to clear his head. He wanted to take a short drive in the Impala and he had fully intended to go back to the hospital. Then he got a call from Bobby. They had taken care of the poltergeist and they were all fine, except Sam was now sporting a black eye from getting hit with a flying book, and they were on their way home. Wanting to make sure that Sam was okay with his own two eyes, he went back to Bobby's. The Impala needed an oil change so he drove the car into the garage, intending to take care of it in the morning. He went into the den and lay down and it wasn't long before sleep quickly claimed him.

When Bobby and Sam arrived home a couple of hours later, not seeing the Impala, they assumed that John was at the hospital, not not bothering to check the den. He and Sam went to their respective rooms and fell asleep.

Needless to say, Bobby was shocked when John walked in the kitchen the next morning.

"Did they release Dean?" Bobby asked.

"No they want to hold him for a few more days," John explained.

"Then why are you here?" Bobby accused. "Who's with Dean?"

John realized his mistake. "I needed to get out of there for a bit, I was going back and then I heard about Sam and I didn't even think."

"Where's the Impala?"

"I put it in the garage. I was going to do an oil change later today."

Before Bobby could respond, the phone rang. Bobby excused himself and answered.

"Johnny," he called sombrely. It's the hospital. They need you there right away."

TBC

Please read and review. I love feedback


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

As always, thanks to Soar for the beta and Sinead-Conlan for looking over my medical facts, any left over mistakes are completely my own.

Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

Sunlight streamed through the window of room 222 at Watertown General Hospital. Dean awoke to a feeling of peace that he hadn't felt in weeks. He hadn't meant to explode like that, but it had felt good to get it all off his chest. The young hunter was just glad that his dad hadn't got mad at him for mouthing off. Dean rolled over and was about to greet his dad with a good morning when he suddenly realized that his father wasn't there. That all too brief feeling of peace evaporated instantly as Dean immediately felt himself tense up.

He tried to tell himself not to worry. His dad had probably had just ran out for some coffee, or to get something to eat. Dean really hoped he was bringing him back something. He was feeling hungry and he felt much better than he had.

Feeling his anxiety levels growing, Dean tried to distract himself. He would normally have popped his headphones on his head, as his music, especially Metallica, always seemed to do the trick of calming him down, but destroying his walkman was the one thing he regretted about the previous night. Dean grabbed the TV remote off his bedside table instead and turned on the television. No sooner had he pressed the power button, than his eyes strayed back to the open door way. _He'll be back any second now. _

Forcing himself to turn away from the door, Dean's attention turned back to the television. He flicked through the small amount of available channels so quickly that if he were to be quizzed later, he couldn't have told you what was on any of them. By now, his gaze was directed only to the open doorway. _Any second now, he's just talking to my doc._

Dean could feel his heart beat increase and try as he might, he could not force himself to glance away from the door. _What's__taking so long? __Maybe he sweet talked his way into getting__the nurses to let__him take a shower. He was starting to get__a bit ripe. _Along with his nervousness, Dean could feel himself start to grow increasingly restless. He was getting really close to ripping out his IVs and going to look for his father. _Suck it up, coward. I mean,__what are you, four? You've slept by yourself plenty of times. He'll be here soon, right,__but what if he was mad, maybe that's__why he left? _

Finally coming to the end of his rope, Dean decided that his first option was the best one. He was just going to go find his dad. Step one was to lose the IV. He closed his left hand over his right and yanked.

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Nurse Helen Banner was coming to the end of a twelve hour shift. She was tired and cranky and she really wanted to go home. There was just one last patient to check on and then she could sign out.

Having been a nurse for 32 years, Helen had developed good instincts as to which of those in her care were going to be easy, and which were going to be difficult, and every instinct was screaming at her that she wasn't getting out of there any time soon. Her suspicions were confirmed when she stepped into room 222 and found the young man sitting on the edge of his bed, the IV lines dangling and dripping on the floor, blood running freely down his arm.

Taking a deep breath and counting to ten, Helen immediately set to work. First, she reached over and pressed the call button for the doctor and picked up some gauze that she could use to stop the bleeding. Or at least that had been the plan.

Dean had his arm pressed to his body, blood staining the front of his hospital gown, and he resisted when Helen tried to gently pry it away.

"Where's my dad?" Dean asked in a voice that made him sound much younger than his years.

"He went home last night. I'm sure that he'll be here when visiting hours start," Helen replied.

"When's that?" Dean inquired.

"At 10," Helen answered.

"What time is it now?"

"6:45."

"I want to go home. Can you call my dad?" Dean asked, once again sounding like a little boy.

Helen was not unkind, but she was human. She had had a bad day, had lost a patient, and she shared Dean's sentiment of wanting to return to the comfort of her own home. There was also no way for her to know Dean's personal history and she responded with the worst possible thing she could have said. "I'm sure you're old enough to stay by yourself. You don't want him getting here and find you being un-cooperative. He might just decide to leave again."

With that, Dean immediately stood and tried to walk out the door. Helen stood in front of the stubborn young man, however Dean was fully prepared to charge right through her and just walk out the front door. Helen put a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"You can't leave," she insisted.

"I have to. I didn't mean to mouth off last night. He must be mad if he left me. He never leaves," Dean said trying to make the nurse understand.

Helen was confused by the young man's remarks. What did he mean?

"Dad doesn't like it when me and Sammy disobey. He gets mad at insubordination. He yells sometimes. I have to tell him that I'm sorry and that I'll be good."

Helen really didn't like the sound of the young man's remarks. Could his father be abusing the two boys? Is that why the father always seemed to be around, because he didn't want them to leave them alone in case they said anything? She had to get to the bottom of this.

"Does your dad get mad easily?" she asked tentatively.

"Only at the big stuff. He just hates for me and Sammy to disobey orders, especially when we're being mouthy like I was last night. I really need to tell him I'm sorry," Dean explained.

Helen's frown deepened. Orders, insubordination, were these kids in the army or something?

"Can you tell dad that I don't feel good. He'll come if I'm sick," Dean said trying to get the nurse's attention.

Helen realized than that she really should check her patient's blood sugar. Moods, feelings and stress were all factors that could play havoc with a diabetic's blood sugar, and if it was too low, it could be contributing to some of the things Dean was saying now. She performed the test and realized that it was indeed low. Dean was still coherent so she gave him some glucose tablets, she didn't want to have to give him the shot because his chart said that they made him sick.

"I'll make you a deal, you get back in bed and I'll call your father and tell him everything, okay?" Helen asked.

"You promise?" Dean asked. "He'll be here when I wake up?"

"Yeah. I want you to lay down now and go back to sleep," Helen said firmly.

"Is that an order?" Dean asked.

Instinct told Helen what to say. "Yes," she replied.

Dean immediately closed his eyes so Helen paged Dean's doctor. Dr. Conlan wasn't in yet, but he called in an order for a sedative and had Helen restart the IV to keep Dean's blood sugar up.

Helen told him about the conversation she had had with the Winchester boy and her suspicions. Dr. Conlan informed Helen that he would take care of everything, he knew she had been on all night so he sent her home.

Dr. Conlan's initial impression of John Winchester was that while he may be strict, he seemed to care about his boys, and he didn't get the feeling that the kids seemed afraid of their dad, still, he had been wrong before and he wasn't about to take any chances. He had a friend at DCFS who could make some discrete enquiries and who had helped him out in the past when Dr. Conlan had been really iffy about something and didn't want to make a formal inquiry. First, he called John and told his brother Bobby that he needed to see Dean's father right away. Then he called his friend.

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Needless to say, Bobby was shocked when John walked in the kitchen the next morning.

"Did they release Dean?" Bobby asked.

"No, they want to hold him for a few more days," John explained.

"Then why are you here?" Bobby accused. "Who's with Dean?"

John realized his mistake. "I needed to get out of there for a bit, I was going back and then I heard about Sam and I didn't even think."

"Where's the Impala?"

"I put it in the garage. I was going to do an oil change later today."

Before Bobby could answer, the phone rang. Bobby excused himself and picked it up.

"Johnny," he called sombrely. "It's the hospital. They need you there right away."

"Is Dean alright?" John asked worriedly.

"If he was, do you think they would be calling? God, Johnny, what in the hell were you thinking?" Bobby snapped.

"I didn't mean to," John defended himself.

"You know how he reacts. How could you have left him?" Bobby accused.

"Look, Bobby, we can argue later. Right now, I need to get to the hospital."

"You go, I'll wake Sammy and bring him after," Bobby offered.

"Thanks," John said as he took off out the door.

Once again, John managed to make it to a destination in half the time it would have normally taken. He didn't even stop at the nurses' station, he just had to get to his son. In his haste, John almost ran into Dean's doctor.

"Mr. Winchester, I really need to talk to you," the doctor informed him.

"Is my son alright?" John asked with concern.

"He became rather agitated when he awoke and pulled out both his IVs. We've given him a sedative and restarted him on fluids."

"I have to see him," John said anxiously as he tried to move around the doctor. He was surprised when the doctor stepped over and blocked his way.

"I need to speak with you first," the doctor said firmly.

That's when John realized the doctor wasn't alone. There was an official looking man with him and John felt his mouth go dry and his heart skip a beat. John knew what agency this man represented.

"Mr. Winchester, my name is Douglas Mansfield, I'm with DCFS. Your son made some rather troubling comments to his nurse and Dr. Conlan called me. I would like to speak to you for a moment."

"Can it wait?" John questioned. He could see Dean's doorway from where he was standing. "I really have to check on Dean."

"I need to speak with you first," the social worker insisted.

"Did Dean's nurse promise him I would be there when he woke up?" John asked.

"Yes, it was the only way she could get him to calm down," Dr. Conlan explained.

"Then this has to wait," John replied and with a hunter's agility, darted around the two and made it into his son's room. John relaxed when Dean appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Of course, it wasn't long before the others showed up.

"Mr. Winchester, please don't force me to call security," Dr. Conlan threatened.

"I'll answer whatever you want, you ask me here though. I can't let him wake up alone."

The social worker looked like he was going to protest, he could tell that the only way he was going to get the boy's father out of this room was to have security drag him out, and he really wanted to avoid that. "First, Mr. Winchester, I want to say that this isn't an official investigation. Alex is a good friend of mine and I'm doing him a favour. He seems think you're okay, but he wanted to make sure."

"I don't hurt my sons," John started out firmly. "I'd kill myself before I ever did that."

"I just want to understand some of Dean's remarks. He said you get mad when they don't follow orders and he seemed awfully concerned about mouthing off to you last night. Insubordinate he called it."

"He didn't mouth off last night," John said in confusion.

"He seemed convinced that he did. Kept saying he had to tell you he was sorry," Douglas explained.

"Mr, Mansfield, Dean didn't mouth off," John insisted. "My eldest was recently diagnosed with diabetes. He's had a hard time with it and last night he finally told me how he felt about everything he's going through. He wasn't rude, or mouthy, he was honest," John replied.

"What about the orders?"

"I guess the only way to explain that is I'm an ex-marine. If I want the boys to know I'm serious about something, like a curfew or a chore that has to be done, I tend to follow it with the words 'that's an order'. It's an old habit and one I don't think I can break, and I do get mad sometimes, but what parent doesn't," John said defensively.

Douglas could understand that, he had three kids of his own and Lord knows they tried his patience sometimes. "What about discipline?" he asked.

"Sammy, my youngest, I tend to ground him and Dean's not allowed to drive the car," John replied. He really wanted this to end and he knew just the way to do it, even if he had to admit the full story behind Dean's fear. He didn't like it, but it was necessary. He took a deep breath and confessed.

The social worker stared at John when he finished his story. He felt sorry for the man standing in front of him. He had reviewed John's record and hadn't seen anything suspicious in the files. Dean's medical record showed no unexplained injuries and the records that were there indicated nothing that would set off an alarm. He felt strongly that the Winchester brothers were in no danger from their father.

John once again had to thank his lucky stars for Jefferson. He had hacked into wherever it was records were centrally kept and had doctored John's records to show a steady employment history at Singer Salvage and medical records were doctored for all three of them.

"Mr. Winchester, I hope that your son gets better. I don't think my presence is required here any longer," Douglas said as he left, leaving John to breathe a sigh of relief. That had been way too close.

Dr. Conlan didn't miss the daggers John seemed to be throwing at him once Douglas left.

"I know you're angry, Mr. Winchester, but I had to do it," the doctor tried to defend himself.

"You could have spoken with me first," John said angrily.

"I had to make sure. I ignored my instincts once when I was fresh out of medical school. I had a patient, a three year old boy who was admitted with a broken arm. The father seemed liked a good guy and there was a perfectly logical explanation as to how his son had gotten hurt, but I noticed that the boy would sometimes flinch when his father was near him. It was nothing overt, but it happened. I felt something was off, but the father reassured me that his son was just afraid of doctors. I listened to him and a few days later, I discharged the boy. He was back two weeks after that, his father had beaten him into a coma. He held on for a few days and then died as a result of complications from the other injuries. It almost ended my career and ever since then, I vowed that I was never going to take a chance again. I would rather file a hundred reports and have them turn out to be groundless because you never know. To be honest, I didn't think there was anything to Dean's remarks, his blood sugar was low so it could have been causing him to say things he didn't mean, but again I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"I can promise you, I would never hurt them, they're everything to me," John admitted tenderly as he stepped towards his sleeping son and soothed the hair off his forehead.

"That's why I called Doug. He's a good guy and I really didn't want to make an official report, he does favours like this for me from time to time. Can I ask you why he reacted that way?" Dr. Conlan asked curiously.

John decided to tell the whole story. He was decidedly uncomfortable with it, but if the doctor knew the truth, it might make things a little easier, especially if Dean was going to be here for a while. He told him about Dean's outburst and how he had really needed some air, and about not paying attention to what he was doing, ending up back at his brother's. Dr. Conlan was confused until John filled him in on what had happened when Dean was four and suddenly everything was crystal clear to him. Dr. Conlan had left the room to answer a page when John had first told the story to the social worker.

"Poor kid, that must have been rough. I'll make a note on your son's chart to exempt you from visiting hours."

"Thanks doc, and I don't like what you did, but thanks for looking out for my boys."

Dr. Conlan knew what John meant and he said that he would check in with them later.

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John sat next to Dean's beside. Sam and Bobby joined him shortly after and it was about an hour after that before Dean started to stir. John asked Bobby to take Sam to the cafeteria for some breakfast. Sam protested that he didn't want to leave again, but John said he needed to speak to Dean alone, and even Bobby agreed with him on that one so he dragged a still protesting Sam with him.

Dean's eyes popped open. Looking immediately for his dad, he visibly relaxed when he found him sitting next to his bed.

"Hey, buddy," John said gently. "I'm sorry I wasn't here before. I promise, Dean, it won't happen again."

"Are you still mad at me?" Dean asked tentatively.

"Why on earth would you think that?" John asked.

"For mouthing off last night," Dean explained.

"You didn't mouth off, Dean. All that stuff you said last night, you needed to say it and I needed to hear it."

"It didn't change anything," Dean replied. "I still have diabetes and I made you so mad that you left."

John felt terrible and his heart really went out to his son. "Sometimes, kiddo, we just need to vent. I didn't leave because I was mad, Dean, I just had some things I needed to go over in my head. It had nothing to do with last night," John said forcibly. "Please don't think that, Dean. Even if I was mad, I would never leave you alone on purpose."

"I'm sorry," Dean said wanting to change the subject.

"For what?" John asked.

"Being such a wimp. I don't blame you for leaving my worthless ass behind. God I'm such..."

**"**_**Stop it now, Jonathan Dean," **_John said firmly. "I won't listen to you put yourself down. You're not a wimp, or worthless." John took a deep breath. He needed to see how much Dean remembered. "Dean, did you ever stop to think that there might be a reason behind your fear of hospitals. Do you remember when you were four?"

Dean shuddered at the thought of the fire. The months after were a blur. "Not much."

John sat on the edge of Dean's bed so he could face his son.

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January 16, 1983

"Jonathan Dean, eat," John Winchester snapped at his eldest son.

"I'm not hungry," the four year old protested stubbornly with a pout, as he crossed him arms in front of him.

"I don't care. I said eat and I mean it," John said in a frustrated tone. It had been just over 2 months since he had lost his beloved wife. They had been staying with his friends, Mike and Kathy, for the first month, but John found that he'd had to get out of there. The Gunthers were good people, but John was really getting tired of them telling him how to run his life. It was none of their business. So John had taken a small apartment and he was now trying to deal with a cranky four year old and a fussy 8 month old. Dean tried. He kept Sammy quiet, but today, Dean had been just as fussy and John felt himself losing his temper.

"I don't want it," Dean said on the verge of tears.

"If you don't eat, then there'll be no dessert," John threatened. "You can just head right to your room."

Finding an opportunity, Dean left and ran to his room. John knew it was a losing battle, so he scraped the last remaining bit of congealed macaroni and cheese into the garbage. If John had been thinking clearly, the fact that Dean went to bed without protest would have told him something was wrong, but he was tired and irritable too.

"Daddy," he heard a weak voice from down the hall call him.

"Too late, Dean. I warned you," John replied, thinking Dean was going to tell him that he was hungry.

Dean didn't call to him again and John finished feeding Sammy. Just as he was cleaning the eight month old up, and wondering if any food had actually made it into his son's mouth, he heard Dean call out to him and then begin to cry.

"Damn it, Jonathan Dean," John growled as he picked up Sammy and stalked off toward the bedroom. He got about 3 steps from the door when the smell hit him. John instantly felt bad, as he hadn't noticed that Dean was sick.

He stepped into the room and took in the sight of his eldest. Dean's top was now orange, as was the carpet by his bed, and John decided that he was never eating macaroni and cheese again for as long as he lived. Putting Sam in his crib so he would be safe, John picked up his eldest. He was shocked by the heat coming off him.

_What am I supposed to do, John thought helplessly. Mary, I need you. You were the one who took care of the boys when they were sick. I don't know what to do. _John did the only thing he could think of. He called Mary's best friend Kathy.

Kathy Gunther and her husband Mike were old friends of the Winchesters and they had felt the loss of Mary almost as strongly as John did. She and her husband were worried about John. They understood that John was going through a rough time, but his boys needed him and they tried to tell him that. They were tired of seeing Dean have to take care of Sam all the time. The kid was four years old and had just lost his mother. He needed someone to take care of him. John seemed to resent them for it, saying that his boys were his business. He had moved out a week ago and the Gunthers were keeping tabs on him. In fact, she and her husband were discussing whether or not to get social services involved and file for temporary custody of the boys when the phone rang.

"Hello," Kathy answered.

"_Dean's sick," came the frantic voice on the other end. _

_"_John is that you?" she asked.

"_"Yeah, Kathy, please. Dean's sick and I don't know what to do," John said and hated himself for feeling so helpless. _

"I'll be right there, John," Kathy promised as she and John said goodbye. She informed her husband of the situation and drove through the heavy snow that was still coming down. When she got there, she found the situation under better control than she had thought it would be.

Sammy was secure in his crib and laying peacefully, it was almost as if he had sensed that his father needed him to remain quiet. She found that John had taken Dean's temperature and had him laying in bed while his father wiped at his head with a cool wash cloth. She also noted that the trash can was close by and that Dean had been sick again.

"John," she said softly. She had let herself in as John had given her and Mike a key.

"Kathy, thank God," John said with relief.

"What's his temp?" she asked.

"104.5," John said.

Kathy let John know that most kids ran high fevers when they were young and she suggested that John take Dean to the hospital, because he probably needed some antibiotics.

"Thanks," John said gratefully.

"I'll stay and look after Sammy if you want. That way you can concentrate on Dean," Kathy offered. She and Mike were unable to have kids of their own and she loved to spend time with Mary's boys.

"I don't know. Maybe I should take him with me," John replied.

"It might be easier if I stayed. That way you don't have to worry about diapers and feedings. You can concentrate solely on Dean."

"Okay," John agreed reluctantly and he got his son ready for transport. When he left, the snow was coming down heavier than it had been before and it was slow going, so John flicked the radio on to hear the weather bulletins. All it said was that the storm system was supposed to miss them and they were expecting about 6 inches of fresh snow, and that it should clear up later that evening.

The ER was packed and John had to wait a good two hours before Dean's name was called. He was seen by a resident who looked barely old enough to shave. Concerned about the boy's temperature, the doctor immediately admitted the youngster and started him on IV antibiotics.

Illness and general fatigue caused Dean to drift quickly into a heavy sleep and John found himself wishing once again that he had taken Sammy with him. He was aware of the concerns Kathy and Mike had and he didn't want them thinking he wasn't taking care of his boys. Should he stay with Dean, or go home and look after Sammy? _Mary, I need you. Tell me what to do. _John found himself thinking once again.

The doctor ended up making the decision for him. Back then, visiting rules were no different for children than they were for adults and he was reminded that visiting hours were over. He gave Dean a quick kiss on his forehead and noted with relief that it seemed cooler already, then he promised him that he would be back the next day.

He also noted that the snow seemed to have slowed down. He parked the car, locked it and went back into his apartment.

"John, how's Dean?" Kathy asked with concern.

"They want to keep on him on antibiotics over night," John replied.

"You didn't stay?" Kathy asked. She knew Mary would have put up a fuss and refused to leave.

John ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "What do you want from me?" he snapped. "You tell me that I'm not taking care of my sons. I stay with Dean and you accuse me of not taking care of Sammy. You're the one who told me to leave Sammy here, that meant leaving one of them, I'm only one person."

"I'm sorry, John, I didn't mean it that way," Kathy said contritely.

"Look, I'm tired and I'm worried about Dean. I want to send some time with Sammy. Thank you for your help, but I'll take it from here," John said firmly and Kathy knew that she was being dismissed.

"I'll call you tomorrow to see how Dean's doing," Kathy said as she collected her purse. She could understand what John was saying. He couldn't be in two places at once.

"Thanks," John said as he collected Sammy from Kathy's arms.

John thought long and hard that night and came to the conclusion that he really needed to get his life back on track. When he had thought about that evening, he realized that he could have handled it. He had known to take Dean's temperature and bathe him with cool water, and he could have taken Sammy to the hospital with him. Making a decision, he grabbed the three bottles of whiskey he had stored under the sink and poured them out. He decided to get things back to normal. He would take Dean to kindergarten, Kathy would baby sit Sammy, and John would go to work.

All those plans went out the window when he woke up the next morning. He could hear the wind howling and John noticed that the power was off. He bundled up Sammy and went to leave for the hospital. He opened the door and stopped short.

The weather station had apparently been wrong, outside there was a complete white out. You couldn't see two feet in front of you. The roads were impassable. He immediately picked up the phone to call the hospital, but there was no dial tone. John was trapped, he had no way to get to, or contact the hospital. He knew this wasn't good. Dean tended to stick to him like glue since losing his mother and he was not going to react well at all when he awoke.

The storm continued for two days, leaving John stranded. He did try, he made sure that Sammy was secure in his crib and sleeping peacefully and he got out the shovel and tried to dig the car out. The wind almost knocked him over and filled the snow in faster than he could clear it. He knew it was a losing battle and he gave up reluctantly and went back to the house, praying for a miracle and that the phone would be working.

On the morning of the third day, it finally started working and John called the hospital immediately. He was given the run around before he finally got someone to tell him the truth and it wasn't good. When the four year old had woken and found his father wasn't there, and hadn't come all day, he became hysterical, screaming for his daddy asking why he had left him like his mommy had done. John felt terrible. He asked to speak to Dean and was told that Dean had been sedated to avoid hurting himself.

It was still several hours before John could dig himself out and drop Sammy off at the Gunthers, and by the time he got there, Dean was non-responsive and almost catatonic.

John crawled into Dean's bed and cradled his son in his arms. "I got you, buddy. I'm here. I'm so sorry, Dean. You're the bravest kid I know. I'm so proud of you." John repeated this mantra over and over again. It was almost two hours later when he heard a small tentative voice whisper, "Dad." It was the sweetest sound John had ever heard.

"Yeah, buddy. It's me. I'm here and I'm not leaving."

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

"I'm sorry, Dean," John addressed his eldest son with a mixture of guilt and sadness. He realized that after that incident, Dean had stopped calling him daddy. He had become dad.

Dean was still trying to process what his father had just told him. He didn't even have the vaguest recollection of that time, but it wasn't his dad's fault. "For what?" Dean asked, truly unsure as to what his father could be sorry for.

"For leaving you alone that night," John said.

"How was it your fault? You couldn't control the weather," Dean said rationally.

"I shouldn't have left that night," John said regretfully.

"You don't have to feel like that, dad. You were doing your best. You had to get home to Sammy."

"You're just as important to me as your brother, Dean. Sammy was safe with Kathy," John said.

"It's not your fault. You didn't cause the storm," Dean said, trying to offset his father's guilt.

John couldn't believe this. He had screwed up and Dean was trying to make him feel better. It was typical of his eldest though and this caused a thought to form in his mind. Was this how his son felt? Blaming himself for his family's financial troubles, even though it was something he had no control over. Maybe he could use this to his advantage.

"I'll make you a deal. If I'm not to blame for the weather, then you're not to blame for developing diabetes," John said.

That was the last thing Dean was expecting. "That's not fair," he pouted, reminding John of his little boy.

"Those are the last words we're going to say on the either subject," John offered.

"Deal," Dean agreed.

"I really am sorry for last night, Dean," John apologized. "I just wasn't thinking. Go ahead and say it," John immediately added as he his son bite down on his lip.

"Do you ever?" Dean said with a chuckle.

John knew that Dean would never hold a grudge.

"You can make it up to me by signing me out of here," Dean suggested. He knew the answer already, but he had to try.

"I will when your doctor releases you," John replied.

"I meant…"

"I know what you meant and no, I'm not signing you out AMA," John said firmly and in a tone that meant Dean knew the subject was closed.

Before Dean could reply, Dr. Conlan showed up with the supplies for Dean's morning injection. Given last night's tirade, John honestly didn't know how his son was going to react. He didn't know why he was surprised when Dean accepted the items without protest and took his meds. Dean would always do what he had to.

After Dean had eaten, Dr. Conlan came and tested his blood sugar before removing the IV, much to Dean's relief. His father didn't leave his side and Bobby and Sammy returned from the cafeteria and spent the morning with him.

Bobby had some work to do though, so he reluctantly left for the afternoon and promised to be back later. After Dean's next injection and lunch, he asked for and received permission to take a shower. He had just finished drying himself off when he heard voices.

"You must be Mr. Winchester and Sammy," he could hear a familiar female voice say. It sounded an awful lot like Kelsey. He was going to kill Bobby if he had said anything.

"Yeah. I'm guessing you're Kelsey," he heard his father reply. _Yup, no doubt about it, Bobby was a dead man. _

"Dean's taking a shower, he'll be out any second," John explained.

"How'd you like the giraffe?" he heard a second female voice ask. It sounded like Miranda. Dean looked around the bathroom for an escape route. Not finding one, he contemplated just staying where he was. They had to leave sometime.

"What giraffe?" he heard Sammy inquire.

"The one your brother won for you the other night," Kelsey said.

Dean realized that it was still in the trunk. He hadn't given it to his brother.

Before Sammy had a chance to reply, he heard a third voice, male this time, ask his father about where he'd gotten his car.

Great, they were all there. Dean knew he couldn't stay in the bathroom much longer or his father would begin to think that something was wrong. He opened the door and stepped into the room. He didn't really look at anyone and climbed back into his bed. He desperately wished he could just ignore the world.

"Hey, Sammy," John said addressing his youngest. "I'm getting hungry. Want me to bring you back anything?"

"I'm good," Sam replied.

"Dean?" John asked.

"My release papers," he suggested, earning another glare from his father. "Never mind, just bring me back a diet soda, please."

"How'd you know Dean was here?" Sam asked the visitors curiously.

"Bobby called me yesterday," Kelsey said.

"What exactly did he tell you?" Dean asked, the hope that Bobby had just said he was sick fading fast. Bobby wasn't one for lies.

"You could have told us you were diabetic, you idiot," Miranda said, but there was no real anger in her tone.

"It's just..." Dean trailed off, he wasn't really sure what to say.

Kelsey seemed to read his thoughts. "Okay, I guess we didn't help," she conceded. "Next time, just say no if we offer you junk food, okay?"

"Sure," he said giving her a small, grateful smile. He would never admit it, but he liked the fact that Kelsey had said next time. She still wanted to see him.

"Do you really have to take needles everyday?" Todd asked suddenly.

"Todd," Miranda said in an exasperated tone. "You can't ask him that."

"Why not?" Todd questioned.

"Because," Miranda said as if that explained everything.

Dean figured that if they were going to be friends, then they had to know. He didn't want to go through this again. "It's okay," he said. "Yes. I take insulin injections."

"Do they hurt?" Miranda asked. She had been curious herself, but was afraid to ask.

"No," Dean said. "The needles are really small. You hardly feel them."

"I don't think I could do it," Kelsey said in an admiring tone.

"You could if you had to," Dean replied as they exchanged another smile.

Sam watched the scene play out. He had a feeling that his big brother really liked this girl. It just gave him more ammunition to tease Dean with later. They stayed for the better part of an hour, asking Dean a few more questions and Dean became a little more at ease when he realized that they weren't going to walk out on him, although he did notice Todd seemed a little uncomfortable. He was grateful though when Sam changed the subject. When they left, they told him they would be in touch.

Dean spent a total of three days in the hospital. Dr. Conlan's plan to have him start physio worked. Dean was really tentative at first, but Chris, the physiotherapist, found out that by challenging Dean, he would rise to the occasion. He also spent a lot of time with the dietician, who worked really closely with the young hunter on counting calories and carbohydrates, how to save his carbohydrates for when he had a "game" and how to time his meals and injections. Plus, Dean realized that when he had an intensive work out, he could have a treat.

The new injection schedule seemed to be working as well. Dean found that for the first time since his diagnosis, his blood sugar was starting to get under control. He was beginning to allow himself hope that he might actually get to hunt again.

He had been really happy to get back to Bobby's. He felt like he had been given a chance to start over. He and his father had even come to an understanding. Dean started bringing his father his diary before he turned in, not because John asked for it, or expected it, but just so his father could see that Dean was indeed fine. John had taken to asking Dean how his supplies were holding out, Dean knew it was his dad's round about way of asking if he was taking his insulin, because if he needed more meds, then obviously he was. Dean still appreciated the fact that his father was trying though.

He also returned to training full time, his fear of hypos getting less and less, but he never let them out his mind completely, that would have been asking for trouble.

John had joined the local parent's support group and he really wished that he could convince his son to join the diabetic's equivalent. He felt it would do him a world of good. He watched as Dean showed Sam how to improve his knife throwing technique and he had an idea on how to convince Dean to attend.

"Hey, Dean," he called to his son. "Come here for a minute."

"Yeah, Dad," Dean said, telling Sam he would be right back before he went to his dad.

"I want to make you a deal," John said.

"About what?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"There's a support group meeting at the hospital tomorrow night," John started.

"Dad," Dean groaned. His feelings on the subject hadn't changed.

"Hear me out," John said, cutting off Dean's protest. "I'm not ordering you, but I'm asking. If you agree to one meeting, I'll lift the remainder of Sammy's punishment." He felt awful for using Dean's tendency to do anything for his younger brother, but it was the only thing he could come up with.

Dean glanced over at his younger brother. He had met Miranda's brother, who was right around Sam's age, and Dean felt that the two would get along well, but he really didn't want to sit around discussing his feeling with a bunch of strangers. Still it was Sammy.

"What if I don't like it?" Dean asked.

"One meeting is all I'm asking, but you have to give it a real shot. No attitude," John said.

"Then I get to take Sammy to the carnival, without you," Dean said adding his own condition.

John was nervous about Dean going out by himself again, but school was going to start again soon and he had to trust his son sometime.

"Okay, but you have to show me your blood sugar readings before and after."

"Deal," Dean agreed. That was fair considering how badly he blew it last time.

Dean went back to his brother and told him he was no longer grounded. When Dean told him why, Sam just hugged his brother.

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The following day, John drove his son to the hospital. He was glad that the two groups met on the same night.

"Hey, dad, do you think they'll make us hold hands and sing We Shall Overcome?" Dean asked his father.

"Dean, we had an agreement," John warned.

"I know, lose the attitude," Dean mumbled.

"I'll meet you here in an hour and a half," John said as he continued down the hall.

Dean mentally calculated his chances of ditching the meeting and just showing up here an hour and a half later. He figured out they landed exactly between slim and none. He did stand in the hallway until 3 minutes before the meeting was due to start, then he took a deep breath and stepped into the room.

Upon entering, Dean could see several kids seated in a circle. They all eyed the new addition curiously. Dean just slunk in and took a seat.

"Hi, you must be Dean," the woman in charge said in a welcoming tone.

The young hunter debated saying no, but a deal was a deal. "That's me," he admitted.

"I'm Lisa Kerney, but you can call me Lisa, we're pretty informal."

"Thanks," Dean said politely.

"Since you're the last to arrive, we can get started. Everyone, as you can see, we have a new member joining us," Lisa said.

_Don't count on it. This is a one shot deal._

_"_This is Dean Winchester," she said introducing him to the others.

_If everyone__says 'hello Dean' in unison, I swear I'm getting up and walking out of here. The deal be damned. _"Hello," he mumbled.

"Since Dean is new, I thought that we could introduce ourselves. I'll start."

One by one they went around to room. Dean learned that Lisa was a teacher who volunteered her time, and that she had been a type one diabetic for eight years. The rest of the group followed her lead and stated their age, how long they had been diabetic and a couple of facts about themselves.

_Must be a script or something. _When his turned came, he opened his mouth and said "I'm Dean." _The deal was to come. I didn't say I'd participate. This must be when the touchy feely,__self help,__yoga crap starts. _Dean checked his watch and saw that he had killed 15 minutes, now all he had was an hour and 15 minutes left to go.

Lisa soon came to the conclusion that Dean wasn't going to say any more. He wasn't the first one to be like this, but she had a feeling that if she left well enough alone, Dean would eventually come around.

"Dean, we keep things pretty informal here," Lisa explained. We just talk about whatever you guys want. If you want to talk about the upcoming school year, or diabetes, it's entirely up to you," Lisa explained.

_I know what you're trying to do and it ain't going to work. I'm not talking. _

"Who wants to start?" Lisa asked.

A kid name Al, who had said that he enjoyed playing baseball, said that his team had won their game and were going to the playoffs. The rest of the group congratulated him. This led to a discussion among the group about who was going to win the World Series.

_The Yankees, Dean wanted say._ Having stubbornly made up his mind that he wasn't talking though, he didn't say it out loud.

Having enough of the sports talk, one of the girls, Ashley, changed the topic to the latest movie. This led to another discussion on everyone's favourite movie

_That's a no brainer. The Shining is the best movie ever made._

"The only thing I really hate…" a kid named Sandy said. She had just been diagnosed three weeks ago. "I miss being able to have my chocolate covered peanuts. I used to dump them right into my popcorn."

_Tell me about it. I have to get up at 5 am to sneak a bowl of Lucky Charms. _

"I know," said another kid, Dean thought his name was Peter. "I hate diet soda. I really wish I could have regular. It's so hard to resist."

_Especially__when you're out with friends. _

"Halloween is the worst," a kid named Jamie said. "I remember making myself so sick from eating friends' candy that I ended up in the hospital."

_Been there, done that. _

"To me it's not the food," a girl named Pam said. "I like to eat healthy anyway, because I want to be a dancer, but I can't get used to the needles. I mean, I've had this disease for a year and a half and at two shots a day, that's how many..." She trailed off as she tried to calculate how many that was.

"Approximately 1095," Dean blurted out before he could stop himself.

"What he said," Pam replied and shot Dean a small smile, impressed that he had calculated that in his head. Maybe she could ask him to tutor her. If her other math tutor was as cute as he was, she might not have flunked and had to go to summer school.

"I agree. I hate having to inject myself twice a day," added another kid said and a couple more added there agreements.

_Try four a day__and then get back to me, Dean thought bitterly._

_"_What was that, Dean?" he heard Lisa ask.

_Please tell me I didn't say that out loud. _"Um, no I didn't say anything," he mumbled.

"Sandy, how are you handling the injections?" Lisa asked, moving on before Dean became any more discomfited.

"I take three a day and I hate the fact that I have to stop what I'm doing to go take one. If I skip it, then I just feel crappy. I can't win," Sandy replied.

_I'm right there with you one that one. _

"How many do you take a day, Dean?" Pam asked. She had developed a king sized crush on their newest member and she wanted to get to know him better.

Dean didn't want to talk about this, but he didn't want to appear rude so he answered. "Four."

"Four, ah man, and here I thought three was bad," Sandy replied.

"So is that what you find hardest to deal with, Dean, the injections?" Lisa inquired. The young man had been quiet for most of the night and she wanted to keep him in the conversation and guessed correctly that he would answer if you asked him a direct question.

"No," Dean admitted. "They're a pain, but I can live with them. It's when others look at me like I have something wrong with me. My brother lost a friend because she was convinced I was contagious." _Dean,__what the hell did you say that for? You hate this kind of stuff. _

"That's the stupidest thing I ever heard," Pam said. "But I can understand it. When I first went back to dance class, my instructor was so afraid that I was going to keel over at any minute that she wouldn't let me do anything. I am pretty good and I used to get called on to demonstrate a lot of moves, but all that stopped. I really had to work hard to prove myself. I started making progress, but one day, I pushed too hard, ran low and passed out, and then I had to start all over again."

"It was my parents that were the worst," a boy named Michael added. "They used to be pretty cool but after I was diagnosed, they became super protective. They dragged me to doctor after doctor. I swear, next they were going to try to find some supernatural cure."

_Actually, I can help you out there too. If they want to look,__let me know and I'll give them Josh's number. "_My dad was always protective." _Shut up Dean, he tried tell himself again. He was more than shocked when he found out that he didn't actually want to though. _"He became even worse. I couldn't even walk to the next room without him wanting me to check my blood sugar."

The others echoed their sentiments before Lisa broke in, "Alright everyone, I hate to break this up, but our time's up. I'll see you all next week. Dean, we're going to the movies for the next session. If you're interested in coming, I need your father to sign a permission form."

Dean answer surprised him. "I'll ask him."

Dean met his dad in the hall. "How was it?" his father asked him.

"I didn't hate it," Dean admitted honestly, which was the closest he would ever come to saying his dad had been right about the support group.

John had to hide a grin.

"They're going to the movies next week. Lisa said you needed to sign this for me to go," Dean said as he handed his father the permission slip.

John didn't hesitate to sign it. He wanted to see Dean get something out of this. Plus, John knew that everyone he was going out with was a diabetic, and so was the leader, so it would be less tempting for him to break his diet.

Later that week, Dean took Sam and Miranda's brother to the carnival, and this time he made sure to stick to his diet, he took his injection and got himself and Sammy home on time. John relaxed when Dean's blood sugar remained within normal ranges.

Dean had been doing so well that his father allowed him to accompany him and Bobby on a hunt. It was just a simple salt and burn, and Dean wasn't allowed to do much more than hold the flashlight, but he didn't care. He was just happy to be out again.

Sam forgot all about his vow to never make a new friend, quickly becoming close to Miranda's brother. Dean continued to attend his support group and began to participate more. He even took Kelsey out on several dates.

John and Bobby were glad that things seemed to be looking up. Then John made his next announcement.

TBC

Please remember to feed my addiction and review.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Thanks once again to Soar and Sinead-Conlan. Any left over mistakes are completely my own.

Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

When Dean was finally released from the hospital, the Winchesters and Bobby managed to settle down into a comfortable routine. Dean would spend the morning down in the salvage yard with his father and Bobby, while Sam was content to sit in the den and go through Bobby's books.

One of the biggest things Sam had always loved about Bobby's house was the sheer number of books the man owned. They were everywhere. Shelves were filled to overflowing, as was almost every available surface. They were mostly books on demons, but there were a lot of other subjects as well. He had all the classics, as well as quite a bit of modern fiction, like Stephen King or Dean Koontz. Bobby had claimed that he loved to read them when he needed a good laugh.

In the afternoons, Dean would join Sam and the two would do some training, much to Sam's chagrin. Then they would do the chores they were assigned. Everyone pulled their own weight, even John.

In the evening, they would all have supper, usually cooked by the eldest Winchester. Once Bobby had discovered John's cooking skills, the evening meal became one of his responsibilities. John didn't mind, though, he had always enjoyed cooking for his family. Dean would admit that this was the one benefit to having diabetes, it had seemed to bring his family together. Sam and John still argued over things like curfew and training time, but they weren't at each other's throats constantly like they had been.

The time after supper was usually spent on individual pursuits. Dean had taken Kelsey out several times, or he did something with Todd and Miranda as well. Sam had forgotten all about his vow to never make another friend again, and started hanging out with Miranda's younger brother, Max.

Despite how well everything was going, John was growing restless. He would be forever grateful to Bobby for everything he had done for them, because he honestly had no idea how he would have made it through everything if it hadn't been for this man, but John was a Winchester through and through and his pride was really beginning to hurt. He needed to make his own way in this world and provide for his sons. He just didn't see how he was going to be able to do it. Bobby paid him a fair wage, but John knew it wasn't going to go far when paying for rent, food and utilities, not to mention Dean's medical supplies.

Bobby kept a close watch on his adopted family. He knew that John was starting to chafe at staying with him. John Winchester was definitely feeling like he needed to get back out on his own. Truth be told, Bobby wasn't sure if he could live permanently with John without wanting to kill him. He loved John like a brother, but like all brothers, even Sam and Dean, John and Bobby got on each other's nerves over small things. He didn't want them going far from him though, so he came up with an idea that would allow John to have his independence and still allow the elder hunter to have his family close by.

Looking for the perfect opportunity to mention his plan, it presented itself late one August evening. It was the last night that the carnival was in town and Dean, Miranda, Todd, and Kelsey wanted to go one last time. They had even invited Sam and Max. John was going to use the peace and quiet to go and start a tune up on the Impala.

"Johnny, before you head out, I need to talk to you," Bobby said as he saw John heading toward the front door.

"About what?" John asked curiously as he stopped and turned to regard his friend.

"School starts in about a week and a half, have you thought about what you're going to do?" Bobby inquired.

_He wants to do this now? _"I'm not sure. I want to stay close though. Dean's doing really well and I don't want anything to upset that," John replied.

"Both boys are, Johnny, and I have two options for you. One is that you can stay here and the boys can go to Watertown High."

"And the other option?" John asked. He really wanted to get out on his own.

"I have a friend of a friend that I did one of our kinds of favours for," Bobby stated. John knew what he was talking about. "Anyway, this guy now owes me a favour and I was talking to him the other day. He's on the board of directors for a school called the Westcott Preparatory Academy."

"Sounds fancy," John said, wondering exactly what Bobby was getting at.

"It's one of the top prep schools in the country. Anyway, they maintain their own private fleet of automobiles for school use and they hire mechanics to maintain their vans. One of their mechanics quit a couple of weeks ago and the job's yours if you want it," Bobby offered.

John was genuinely glad to have such good friends who were willing to do so much for him and his family. After Dean had been released from the hospital, John had gone to the billing department to make arrangement to settle the bill, where he had been informed that it was taken care of. When he inquired as to how that was possible, he was told that a Dr. Joshua Holland had put a note on his son's chart that said admissions were to be billed to him. John knew that Joshua had money, lots of it, but it still upset that stubborn Winchester pride. He was going to kill his friend when he saw him next.

He gave serious thought to Bobby's offer, it sounded like a good job, but it still wouldn't really solve his money problems. "I don't know, Bobby, what about the boys?"

"They would be able to attend the school," Bobby informed his friend.

"There's no way I can afford prep school tuition, you know that," John said, looking at his friend like he had gone crazy.

"The best part of this deal, Johnny, is that as an employee, your children attend the school and the tuition is free. It's a great school, as I said, one of the best. Plus, it's only about 45 minutes away from here so Dean wouldn't have to change doctors. I also saved the best for last, you'd have a full slate of benefits, including medical coverage."

It was a perfect solution to John wanting to make his own way. Plus, there would be little disruption in the boys' life for once, and he wouldn't have to worry about Dean's medical supplies. There was just one problem.

"How's Dean going to react when I tell him that he'll be attending a prep school? Sammy's going to love it, but Dean's going to hate it," John said matter of factly.

That had been the one sticking point with Bobby as well. Dean was going to balk at the thought of attending such a fancy school. "He won't like it, but he'll adjust. Dean always does," Bobby said confidently.

"Are they going to have to wear uniforms?" John asked tentatively.

"Yes," Bobby admitted. "And there's one more thing I didn't tell you about the place," Bobby said and he relayed the last piece of information to the hunter.

"You are so going to be the one that tells that part to Dean," John replied after Bobby told him that this was an all boys prep school.

"Maybe that won't matter too much. I mean, he and Kelsey seem to be getting along great," Bobby said hopefully.

"You may be right. He seems to really like this girl," John agreed.

"Something else is on your mind, I can tell," Bobby commented as he read his friend's expression.

"What about Dean's diabetes?" John wondered aloud, his tone turning serious.

"What about it? There is a school medical office with a nurse where he can store his insulin supplies, and from my understanding, the cafeteria is better stocked than most restaurants."

"That's not really what I meant. I'm worried about Dean going backwards. His friends know the situation, they seemed to have accepted it, but you know how hard Dean worked to hide it from them. He put himself in the hospital, Bobby. We both know he won't want to stick out or draw attention to himself at this new school and I can picture him trying to hide it. At least if he's at Watertown high, his friends already know."

"You're going to drive yourself crazy, John. What if Dean went to college?"

"With his grades?" John said with a sneer.

Bobby glared at his friend, letting him know that he didn't appreciate that remark one bit. Dean was plenty smart and if he applied himself, his grades would be right up there with his younger brother's. "Watch it," Bobby cautioned.

"Sorry," John mumbled, Bobby's tone left him feeling he had to say it.

"I'm not going to tell you not to worry, Johnny, it would be easier to convince you to give up breathing, but you have to trust Dean. I know you're making an effort, but you can't put him in bubble wrap."

"I get want what you're saying, but, Bobby, there's so much potential for complications, Dean couldn't handle it if his kidneys failed, or he lost a foot."

"I'm sure Dean knows that, Johnny. He's paid the price for not looking after himself and I doubt he wants to go back to the hospital. I still say give him the benefit of the doubt. Dean's growing up, you're going to have to let him make his own way, especially with his diabetes."

John sighed heavily. "I get what you're saying. Okay, tell your friend I'll take the job."

Bobby just grinned. "I already did. You have an appointment to meet with Jim Gurdy tomorrow at three. He wants to explain your duties. Then you have an appointment with Richard Webber at 2 on Thursday to enrol the boys and pick up their uniforms."

"And if I had said no?" John asked.

"I knew you wouldn't," Bobby said simply. "I know you too well."

"Just do me one favour, Bobby," John requested.

"What's that?"

"Take a picture. I want to see Dean's face when you tell him it's an all boys school."

"I never said I would be the one to tell him," Bobby said. "Let's settle this the way the boys do," Bobby suggested as he held up his fist.

"Count of three," John said.

Three fist pumps later, John stared at his paper and Bobby's scissors.

"Told you I knew you well," Bobby replied. "Don't forget that camera, John."

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The following day, John said that he had errands to run in town. He wasn't ready to tell the boys about their new school just yet. When he arrived at the school for his appointment though, he was brought up short. He couldn't believe that he was staring at a school.

There was a wrought iron gate surrounding the property and John had to present ID to get past the security guard that manned the gate. The grass on the main lawn was neatly trimmed and the flower beds looked freshly arranged. John could make out a full sized football field, baseball diamond and soccer pitch. He could see the building that Bobby had told him was where basketball was played, and although John couldn't see it, he knew there was a rink for ice hockey and a full sized swimming pool within the complex as well.

The academic buildings were located across from the athletic fields. It was like four schools in one. The first was the lower elementary that housed kindergarten to grade three. There was the upper elementary that contained grades 4 to 6. A junior high where grades 7-9 went. This was where Sammy would be going and John found it hard to believe that his youngest was starting junior high already. Then there was the high school for grades 10 through 12, where Dean would attend grade 11.

When John questioned his friend about how he knew so much about the place, Bobby had said that this guy was really grateful for the favour that was done for him and had promised him that if he ever had sons, he would make sure that they could attend the school. He had been more than willing to get Bobby's nephews in.

John walked across the expansive campus to the maintenance buildings and spent the afternoon with his new boss, all the while wondering just how much it would cost if he had to pay to send his boys here. He found the motor pool and asked for Jim Gurdy, who greeted John enthusiastically and was friendly and down to earth, and John found himself looking forward to working here.

As he left that afternoon, he debated with himself about how to tell his sons. He had to do it within the next two days because he had to bring the boys to the school to get registered. Sammy was going to think he had died and gone to heaven, Dean, on the other hand, was going to think he had died and gone to hell.

He decided to take them out for dinner, they couldn't put up too much of a fuss if they were in a public place. John drove home wondering when he had gotten soft. He knew he should just tell the boys where they were going and that it was an order, but for some reason, he just couldn't.

As he was driving back to Bobby's, he took it as a sign that he was making the right move when he drove by a small house with a for rent sign. It was a bit run down, but with a fresh coat of paint, he felt it would make a good home for him and the boys. He pulled out his cell and called the realtor, who was in the area. He agreed to come immediately and show John the house.

The inside needed a good scrubbing, but it was a lot better than some of the other places they had stayed. It contained two bedrooms and was fully furnished. There was even a small storage area in the back, which although tiny, could potentially serve as a small bedroom, so if the boys wanted to have their privacy, they could. John immediately informed the realtor that he would take it, and made arrangements for the next day to meet with him and pay the deposit.

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That evening, John took his boys out to dinner at a local restaurant. They were immediately suspicious because they knew that their father wasn't one to waste money. They both figured that John was going to tell them that they were leaving again and Dean was getting a taste of what Sam usually went through. He really liked Kelsey and he, for once, was in agreement with Sam about staying put.

They sat around for a while in an awkward silence. John wasn't sure where to start so he was grateful when the waitress came. He ordered a double bacon cheese burger, with a side order of fries, Sam got a mushroom Swiss burger with fries and gravy and Dean ordered the club sandwich with a side salad and a diet coke. These were the times when he really felt like he stood out and he preferred eating in since they all ate the same thing. It was one of his father's hard and fast rules, if you didn't eat what was in front of you, you went hungry.

The evening got off to a bad start when the waitress brought their drinks. When John was distracted by something, he tended to fall back into his old patterns of reminding Dean about insulin doses and checking his blood sugar, so when Sam ordered a regular coke and the waitress approached, John could see that the glasses looked identical. How could she tell which was which?

"Are you sure that's the diet?" John asked when she set a glass in front of Dean. "My son's a diabetic."

"DAD!" Dean exclaimed in an exasperated tone.

The waitress gave a small smile and answered, "Yes, we put a blue straw in diet pop and a red in regular," she explained and left to go get the rest of their order.

"Sorry, Dean," John tried to explain. "It just slipped out."

Dean just scowled.

"I need to talk to you boys," John informed his sons quickly tying to change the subject.

"I don't want to move," Sam immediately protested.

Dean didn't say anything. He was still upset over what had just happened.

"Samuel, don't interrupt. You didn't let me finish," John scolded his youngest son.

"We aren't moving?" Sam asked, a touch of confusion entering his voice. What else could his father have to tell them?

"Yes, we are," John confirmed.

"I knew it," Sam huffed. "What about Dean's meds? How are you going to pay for them?"

"Damn it, Sammy," Dean protested. "Don't you start too. I'm sitting right here."

"Samuel, Jonathan Dean, that's enough out of both of you. We are moving, but we're not going far. We're just moving out of Bobby's into our own place. It's about 20 minutes from here. Bobby used one of his contacts to get me a job working as a mechanic at a school."

"We're not leaving town?" Sam asked in surprise.

"No, Sammy. I found a small house for us to rent and the school where I'll be working offers a full range of benefits, including medical."

"Where is this school?" Dean asked sceptically. His hunter's instincts were telling him that his father was holding something back and he wasn't going to like it.

"It's located about 45 minutes from here and it's called the Westcott Preparatory Academy."

"Where are we going to school?" asked Dean. He had a feeling he knew the answer.

"The same place. As an employee, my kids get to attend, tuition free."

"We're going to a prep school," Sam said with a touch of excitement in his voice. He had always wanted to attend a private school. He loved learning and a lot of the schools he attended were lacking, he had even attended one where the kids had to share textbooks. That was one time Sam had been really glad to move.

"A snob school," Dean said doubtfully. "Why would we want to go there? You can work there, but I'll go to the local high school."

"You're both attending," John said in a forced tone. "End of discussion."

"Some discussion," Dean mumbled.

John stared at his sons, it was like a role reversal. He couldn't believe he was getting lip from his eldest, it was usually Sammy that put up the fuss.

"Something to say, Jonathan Dean?"

"No, sir," Dean said.

"I didn't think so. Now we have to attend tomorrow to get you both enrolled and pick up your uniforms.

"We get uniforms?" both Sam and Dean said in unison, but in completely different tones. Sam's was full of excitement while Dean's was full of horror.

It was going to be horrible. The other kids were going to know that they were employee kids and make their lives miserable. Dean's eyes glanced towards the wrist where his bracelet was. He was already different, how were the others going to react when they found out just how different he was? He had a strong feeling that they were going to be like Brian from his old school, not like Kelsey. His appetite vanished and he just picked at his food.

John frowned as he watched his eldest. This was what he was worried about, of course this time, John was looking for the reaction and made Dean finish his supper. Dean's face never lost his sullen expression, but he managed to eat most of his food.

Sam talked enthusiastically all the way through dinner. He couldn't wait to start his new school. Dean didn't say another word.

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Dr. Richard Webber had been headmaster of the Westcott Preparatory Academy for close to 15 years and he prided himself on the way he ran his school. There was a strict code of conduct, a zero tolerance policy on fighting and high academic standards. 92 of their graduating class had gone on to Ivy League universities. The school was so popular that their admission standards were getting stricter and they had to turn away a number of boys each year, and there were now talks with the board of directors about building a dormitory and boarding students.

Then there were those slots that were reserved for scholarship students and employee students. Dr. Webber had no problem with the scholarship students, they had earned their right to be here, but he felt that employees' sons shouldn't be granted automatic admission. They should have to pass the same tests as the rest of the students and should pay the same. Of course, the fact that his own son attended because of this policy was something he didn't dwell on. He knew of several parents that worked 3 jobs and had two mortgages to pay the $15,000 yearly tuition to make sure that their sons could obtain the finest education.

He was reviewing the folders of all the new boys that would be attending this year and he saved the employee ones until last, as always. There were two new ones this year, the sons of their new mechanic, Samuel and Jonathan Winchester, Jr.

He felt a bit better as he read Samuel's folder. The boy sounded just like a proper Westcott student. He had received glowing recommendations from all his teachers, he was a good athlete, and his grades were all straight A's, best of all that there were next to no discipline reports.

Then Dr. Webber read the other boy's report and he frowned. This was precisely the reason he wanted to get rid of the employee rule. This boy did not belong here. His grades were all over the place, C's in English to A's in Math, physics, and Latin of all things. His remarks all said the same thing, highly intelligent but lazy and doesn't apply himself. He could see the boy had been suspended several times for fighting and his folder contained several discipline reports, plus several warnings for tardiness and absenteeism. _Oh well, he thought, this just means I have a reason to expel him if he doesn't keep up with the work or starts fights. _

He was taken away from his thoughts when his intercom buzzed. His secretary informed him that John Winchester and his sons were here to see him and he asked her to send them in.

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While Dr. Webber was going through the boys' transcripts, John and his sons were making their way across the campus. Sam kept pointing things out and exclaiming over them. Dean just went deeper into his funk. John was worried about Dean backsliding because he'd had a hypo that morning. It had been his first in weeks.

"Well I guess there is one thing good thing about going here," Dean said grasping at straws. "All the girls that want to piss off daddy by dating a guy from the wrong side of the tracks," he said half-heartedly.

"What about Kelsey?" Sam inquired.

"Shut up, Sammy," was all Dean said.

"Uh, Dean, it's a boys prep school," John admitted. Dean's lack of reaction surprised his father, which alerted John to the fact that his son really cared about this girl.

Dean's attitude toward the school hadn't really improved and John kept telling himself that Dean would come around once school started, or at least that's what he was hoping.

"Dad, is this really a school?" his youngest asked, as if he really couldn't believe that they were going to get to go here.

"Yes Sammy, it's your school," John informed him youngest. "Dean, look I know this is the last place you want to be, but just remember, if you're determined to be miserable, you're probably going to be."

"I'm not determined, I just know. They don't want us here, dad," Dean replied.

"Exactly who would that be?"

"The students, teachers, administrators," Dean rattled off.

"And they told you this when exactly?" John asked his eldest.

"They didn't have to, I can just imagine what this place costs, everyone here is probably really rich snobs who are going to hate us because we're not," Dean said trying to explain.

"Aren't you being a snob by prejudging them? You haven't even met anyone yet," John pointed out reasonably.

"I don't want to," Dean said stubbornly.

John wanted to growl in frustration. "What about Joshua?"

"What about him?" Dean asked, wondering what his father was getting at.

"Do you think he's a snob? He's rich."

"No," Dean admitted. He thought for a moment and added, "He's the exception that proves the rule."

John decided to let it go for now. If Dean had made up his mind there would be no changing it until he had actually met some of the kids. It was just like the support group that John had convinced his son to attend.

"Come on, Dean, dad's right," Sam said. He really wanted to go to this school and he was afraid that Dean might manage to convince their dad that they shouldn't.

"Can you repeat that, Sammy?" John asked at the same time as Dean muttered, "Christo."

Sam knew he'd never live that one down. "Okay, it had to happen once. I mean, it's the law of averages, right Dean?"

"I guess. I just never thought I'd hear those words come out of your mouth, Sammy," Dean replied.

There was something on Sam's mind and he felt this was the best time to bring it up. "Actually, dad, Dean, it's Sam. I'm too old for Sammy."

"Since when?" Dean said as he stared at his little brother. He had always been Sammy.

"Since now," Sam replied firmly. When he had started at his last school, the other kids had started calling him Sammy and he fought hard to get them to stop. He didn't want that trend to continue here.

"I guess you really are growing up, Samm… uh, Sam," John said quickly correcting himself.

"Thanks dad," Sam said.

"You're Sammy and you always will be," Dean said stubbornly.

"Dean, please, how would you like it if I called you Dean-o?" Sam questioned. Dean hated when someone called him that. A guy at one of the schools they had been to had insisted on calling Dean, Dean-o. One punch had taken care of it. The guy had a bloody nose and Dean ended up with a suspension, which had led to his dad laying down the law about his eldest fighting at school.

"It'll be the last thing you ever do, Sam_**my**__," _Dean sneered and put the emphasis on the last syllable in Sam's name.

"Jerk," Sam cried.

"Bitch," Dean retaliated.

"Enough, both of you, or you're going to be running laps at Bobby's tonight," John threatened. "Dean, if your brother wants to be called Sam please respect his wishes," John replied sternly.

"Yes, sir," both boys echoed. Dean had a date with Kelsey tonight and Sam was going to Max's, neither wanted to be stuck with punishment laps.

They arrived at the administration building and John gave Dean strict instructions to behave before he gave his name to the secretary, then they were ushered inside.

Dr. Richard Webber stood and approached the small family. He and John shook hands and John introduced the boys, commenting that his eldest went by Dean to avoid confusion.

"Yes," Dr. Webber said dismissively and gestured for the three of them to sit down. "I'm Dr. Richard Webber and I'm the school's headmaster. I'll tell you a bit about the school and the rules and then Joan, my secretary, will take Samuel and Jonathan…"

"Dean," the middle Winchester said in correction, earning him a frown from both his father and the headmaster.

"Sorry," he muttered dejectedly. So far this was going as badly as he had feared.

"As I was saying, I am your headmaster and I have a PhD in education from Yale University."

_Big deal, doesn't impress me in the slightest you pompous ass._

"Now, as I was saying, the Westcott Preparatory Academy was founded in 1904 by Sir James Westcott. Sir James moved here from his estate in England at the end of the 19th century. He wanted his sons to have the finest education but had found local schools and tutors lacking in providing that. He decided to send for one of the finest tutors from England and his sons received such a fine education that many of Sir James' peers wanted to educate their sons in the same way. Sir James saw the value of a proper education and founded the first Westcott Preparatory Academy. At first, the school was populated only by those who could afford the tuition fees, however, as the reputation of the school grew and more and more parents wanted their children educated there, the school's entrance requirements became stricter, eventually only accepting the best and the brightest. The school has evolved over the past century into the Academy of excellence we have today."

_Where if you're__rich you can still__buy your way in, Dean thought cynically_

_"_We have very strict standards here. Each student is to conduct himself with the utmost sense of decorum and achieve high scholastic standards."

_You could just say no fighting and get good grades. _

"Plus, you will be required to follow our dress code, the full uniform with jacket, trousers which should be neatly pressed, shoes polished and your school tie pulled up at all times. Any infractions will result in detention. Are there any questions?" Dr. Webber finally paused.

"No sir," Sam said respectfully.

"I'm good," Dean added and earned himself another frown from the headmaster. Dean resisted the urge to sigh.

"Very well," he said and buzzed his secretary and instructed her to take the Winchester boys to get their uniforms.

Dean and Sam followed the secretary and John turned back to the headmaster.

"Dr. Webber," John said. He was glad that he could have this conversation without Dean in the room. "My oldest son has diabetes. He takes insulin injections four times daily which means that he's going to have to take one while he's at school. I have the note from his doctor," John said as he handed the other man the information. Bobby had told him that he would need to have something signed that proved why Dean would need to take medication at school.

"I'll make the appropriate notes and inform the nurse," Dr. Webber said matter of factly.

"If you could also let his teachers know. That way they can be informed of any potential problems."

"I can take care of that," the headmaster replied curtly as if he didn't appreciate the extra work. "Mr. Winchester, I feel that Samuel will do well here. He embodies the type of young man we strive to produce, someone who is hardworking and respectful. Your other son, Jonathan, on the other hand, please remind him of the rules. He will be expected to keep up with the academic standards and rules of conduct," Dr. Webber said as if he didn't believe the boy could.

John was working hard to bite down on his tongue. He really wanted to let this guy have a piece of his mind. This man had no right to put his son down like that. Dean was every bit as capable as Sam was. The only reason John didn't say something was because he really needed this job, so he filled out the rest of the paperwork and forms in silence. He left the office an hour later and met his boys in the other room. They were both carrying garment bags, which Sam couldn't wait to show his to his father. Dean said that he couldn't wait to burn his.

That night, back at Bobby's, Sam tried his uniform on for his father and Bobby. Dean refused. He put it in his room and pretended that it wasn't there. He just left for his date, saying that he would drop Sam off at Max's and be home by midnight.

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Dean dropped his brother at his friend's house and he, Kelsey, Todd and Miranda had a double date. They had decided to go bowling. They decided to play girls against the guys and were embarrassed when the girls beat them.

The boys, having lost, were responsible for getting snacks.

"So, Kelsey, you and Dean seem to be getting along well," Miranda remarked.

Kelsey gave a big grin. "He's great, Miranda. I'm so glad my dad's friend introduced us. He's not like the other guys I've gone out with, I mean Eric dumped me because I wouldn't sleep with him, but Dean's a real gentleman. He's a pretty good kisser too," she confided in her friend.

"Todd's not so bad himself. He asked me to go all the way with him," Miranda admitted.

"Are you going to?" Kelsey asked curiously.

"I don't know. I'm just glad that Todd's giving me time. I know he wants me to have sex with him, but he's not pressuring me. What about you? You think you might like to do it with Dean?"

Kelsey couldn't help but blush. She really liked the young hunter, but she wasn't sure she was ready. "It's never really come up," she admitted honestly. "I honestly don't know what I would do it if it did."

"Let's make a promise to each other, okay?" asked Miranda. "If it does happen, let's make sure we're cautious and to let the other know how it was."

"Agreed," Kelsey confirmed. "Here come the boys. We better change the subject."

When the boys got back with the drinks, Kelsey brought up a subject that Dean was really hoping she wouldn't.

"Are you going to be going to Watertown High, Dean?" she asked him.

"No," Dean mumbled. "My dad got a job at that private school, so me and Sammy will be going there."

"Westcott Snobbery Academy," Todd said. He was on his school's basketball and soccer teams and his school had played against Westcott.

"Unfortunately," Dean confirmed miserably. "I'd rather just go to the local school, but Dad said that it's a great opportunity."

Kelsey and Miranda looked at each other. At least at Westcott, there would be no other girls to catch Dean's eye.

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With the boys occupied, Bobby took care of some business and found John in the living room. He could immediately tell that something was on his mind. "Johnny, did something happen today?" Bobby questioned.

"I don't think this was a good idea, Bobby. That headmaster pretty much came out and admitted that he didn't want _Jonathan_ at his school. I almost told him right where to put that attitude," John said. He deliberately referred to his eldest as Jonathan, in an imitation of the headmaster.

Bobby smiled. "Good thing _Jonathan's_ not attending then, isn't it? Dean's going to be just fine," Bobby said confidently. He wanted to have a few words with the headmaster himself though. Nobody was allowed to treat Dean that way.

"Down, Bobby," John cautioned. He knew about Bobby's protective streak towards his eldest.

"So at least it looks like Sam's happy," Bobby replied.

"At least one of them is. It sure would be nice if I could make the two of them happy at the same time though," John said wistfully.

"Dean's going to come around, Johnny. If anything, he's going to it to prove them wrong," Bobby said reassuringly.

"I hope so," John said.

"He and Kelsey seem to be getting close," Bobby commented, changing the subject.

"She's a nice girl," John confirmed.

"Have you had the talk with him yet?" Bobby said with a grin. Bobby said with a grin

"BOBBY!!!"

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The week passed much too quickly for Dean and too slowly for Sam. It was spent moving into their rental house. John pointed out the room in the back, but he wasn't surprised when both boys ignored it and put their stuff in the second bedroom, Sam taking the bed by the wall and Dean taking the bed closest to the door.

Inevitably, the day Dean had been dreading arrived.

"Sam, Dean," John called to them on the morning of the first day of school.

"Dean, come on, get up, school's today."

"Only you would be excited about that, geek boy," Dean said teasing his brother as he rolled over and pulled the covers back over his head.

"Better get up, you know how dad feels about calling us twice and you have to..."

"Sammy, ah, I mean Sam," Dean stumbled. He couldn't get used to it. "You say it and I swear..."

"What I meant you had to put your uniform on," Sam said as he took off out the door seconds before Dean's pillow hit where he had been standing.

Dean dragged himself out of bed. He took a quick shower and went through his morning routine of checking his blood sugar, taking his insulin and checking his feet, and then joined his father and brother in the kitchen, wondering what the day would bring.

TBC

A/N: I honestly have no idea if John's benefits would cover Dean since his condition is pre-existing but for the purposes of this story I am going to say they are. Plus the next chapter will cover both Sam and Dean's first day, not just Dean's.

Please remember that I am addicted to feedback and need that addiction fed. Please read and review.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

A/N: Once again thank you to Sinead-Conlan and Soar. Any left over mistakes are my own.

John Winchester awoke at 6:29, one minute before his alarm clock was due to go off, as he did every morning. It was a habit he had gotten into back when he was in the marine corps and it had continued to this day.

John rose out of bed and made his way to the kitchen so he could start breakfast. He paused by the door to the boys' room and fondly watched his sleeping sons. Sam was always relaxed when he slept, lying on his side, facing the wall, his back to the door. It seemed as if he was saying, even in his sleep, that he trusted his big brother to watch his back, that he felt nothing could get to him. Dean, on the other hand, was also on his side, but he lay facing the door. He looked alert, even in his sleep, like he was ready to stop any threat to his brother. His hand rested near his pillow, ready to grab the hunting knife John knew that he kept there.

John finally tore himself away and went to the kitchen, grabbing the box of Lucky Charms out of the cupboard. John was willing to admit that he was a bit nervous as to what the day would bring and he found the sugared cereal to be one of his comfort foods. He wasn't worried about being able to handle his responsibities, working around car engines came as naturally to him as breathing. He was worried about his sons though.

Sam was beyond excited, but Dean was filled with dread. The elder hunter shared some of his eldest son's concerns. Kids could be cruel and John knew that some of the kids in the school would look down on his boys because they were the kids of an employee. John was just hoping that they would turn out to be the exception and not the rule, and that not everyone with money was like that.

John could speak about this from experience. There was only one person who knew John's full history, Pastor Jim. He hadn't even confided in Bobby, who was like a brother to him. John's parents came from money. His parents had sent him to a private school, but it was nowhere near as fancy as the one the boys were attending. His father had wanted him to go into law school and join the family firm, but law had never interested him.

Then he further frustrated his parents when he joined the marine corps and went to 'Nam. Still, he was the only son of Arthur and Patricia Winchester, so they accepted him when he came back. Then John committed the unforgivable sin.

His parents had wanted him to marry someone they deemed appropriate. They had expected John's tinkering at the auto shop he had opened with a friend from school, to be just a passing fancy. One day though, a young woman had brought her car in for a tune up and it was love at first sight.

Mary Morgan was a student at the university, working toward her teaching degree. His parents had felt that the Morgans were beneath them, not in their social circle, and had informed their son that they would disown him if he continued his relationship with her. John wouldn't hear of it. He loved Mary and he didn't care about his parents' money, so John packed his things, walked out the door and never looked back, determined to make his own way in the world. He hadn't seen his parents since.

John berated himself mentally. He didn't like dwelling on the past. He shook the memories out of his head and put on some scrambled eggs as he finished the last of his cereal, not wanting to eat it in front of his eldest.

He glanced at the clock and saw that it was just before 7. He called the boys and shortly afterward, he heard the shower start. It wasn't long before Sam popped into the kitchen.

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**Sam's Morning **

"Morning, kiddo," John greeted his youngest son.

"Morning, dad," Sam replied.

"Your brother up?" John asked as he saw Sam reach for the cereal.

"He was awake when I left the room," Sam replied. Both Winchesters knew that Dean hated to get up early. As if on cue, Dean entered the kitchen and grabbed his insulin from the fridge, before disappearing back down the hall and into the bathroom. Then they heard the shower turn on. "Guess he managed to drag himself out of bed," Sam confirmed.

"You ready for today?" John asked. He knew that Sam had to be feeling a little nervous.

"Yup," Sam replied and as his father had guessed, there was small amount of nervousness in Sam's tone.

Sam did feel a tiny amount of anxiety, but it was nothing compared to the excitement he felt. He couldn't wait to get to school. "Hey, Dean," Sam greeted when his brother stepped into the kitchen.

The youngest Winchester watched as Dean mumbled a half hearted greeting and seated himself across from his younger brother as John put a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast in front of both of them.

Sam dug into his breakfast as his brother negotiated a bowl of the cereal with his father. He didn't really pay too much attention to what his brother was saying though. His mind was too focused on starting junior high school.

After breakfast, the boys went back to the room they shared to finish getting dressed. Sam grabbed his tie and stood in front of the mirror to make sure it was straight. He could hear a few mumbled curses from Dean as he joined him.

"Hey, Dean, remember when you taught me how to tie one these things?" Sam asked as he went through the motions of knotting his tie.

"Yeah," Dean said.

"Who taught you how to tie one?" Sam asked his brother. He saw Dean give a small shake of his head and Sam knew that he had been recalling the memory.

"No one," Dean mumbled. "I saw Joshua do it once and practiced until I got it right."

"Boys, you about ready?" their father's voice called to them. "You don't want to be late on your first day."

"Coming, dad," Sam said as he pulled his tie up and grabbed his blazer and put it on.

John couldn't help but think of how handsome his sons looked as they appeared in their uniforms. The Westcott uniform consisted of gray dress pants, a white shirt, a red blazer with the school crest just over the left breast and a red and gray stripped tie with the school crest repeated in each of the gray stripes. John found himself wishing he had a camera and reminded himself that he needed to pick one up. He was going to need photographic proof of Dean in a uniform if he wanted any one of his hunting friends to believe him.

John pulled into the school and parked in the employee parking lot, then took his boys over to the administration building to pick up their school IDs and get their course schedules. Not wanting his sons to be embarrassed by being escorted by their father, he quickly left to go report for work. Sam saw his father have a few quick words with his brother and guessed that they had to do with his illness, because Dean's face adopted the scowl he wore whenever someone mentioned his diabetes.

Dean walked Sam to the junior high building.

"I'll meet you here at 4, Sammy," Dean told his little brother.

"Sam, Dean. You promised," the 12 year old growled and looked around hoping no one had heard Dean.

"Whatever. Just be here at 4," Dean snapped.

"You okay, Dean?" Sam asked with concern.

"Fine. Just hate school, you know that. Have a good day, Sam," Dean said as a way of apologizing.

"Thanks, Dean," Sam said, once again in Winchester speak, letting Dean know that he understood his brother was sorry and that he accepted it.

Sam took a deep breath and entered the building.

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**Dean's Morning**

It was the smell of frying bacon that finally managed to get the middle Winchester out of bed that morning. His dad wouldn't hold breakfast, so if he didn't want to eat it cold, he was going to have to get it when it was served.

He went to the kitchen and grabbed his meds out of the fridge and headed for the bathroom. He took a quick shower and had his injection. He was glad to see that his blood sugar was remaining within normal ranges. He wondered if he could convince his father to let him have a bowl of Lucky Charms, he had seen the cereal box on the table when he had been in the kitchen earlier. Morning tasks completed he went for breakfast.

"Half a bowl, dad?" Dean asked his father as he sat at the table and eyed the cereal box. "My blood sugar's okay."

"Quarter," John countered. "Plus, you do a 1/2 hour of extra training."

"Deal," Dean agreed and reached over and grabbed the box before his father could change his mind.

Dean wanted to retreat to his room after he had his bit of cereal. His appetite was non existent, but he knew that he had to eat the rest of his breakfast. When he had satisfied his father with the amount that he had eaten, he and Sammy went to finish getting dressed. _Correction,__Sam,_ _Dean thought._ He still couldn't get used to calling Sammy, Sam. He didn't want to get used to it actually. No matter how old his little brother got, he would _**always**_ be Sammy to his big brother.

He entered the bedroom and grabbed his tie off the dresser, letting the inanimate object know exactly how he had felt about it, joined the youngest Winchester at the mirror and began knotting his tie.

"Hey, Dean, remember when you taught me how to tie one these things?" Sam asked as he went through the motions of knotting his own tie.

Dean couldn't help but recall the memory.

They had been staying at Pastor Jim's. It was Christmas Eve and both Winchesters were wondering if their father would make it back to celebrate the holiday. They had both been expected to attend mass with the pastor and Sammy had decided that he wanted to tie his own tie. It had taken Dean two hours to show the 7 year old how to do it properly.

They were both pleasantly surprised when they awoke the next morning and found John asleep next to the Christmas tree. He had arrived late the previous evening and had been putting the boys' presents under the tree. He had driven 12 hours straight to make sure he made it back to spend the holidays with his sons, and had decided it wouldn't hurt to close his eyes for a few minutes. Sleep had claimed him instantly. Sam had been convinced that Santa had given their father to them as a Christmas present.

"Who taught you how to tie one?" Sam asked, bringing his brother back to the present.

"No one," Dean mumbled. "I saw Joshua do it once and practiced until I got it right," Dean answered. He really hoped that Sam wasn't about to start something.

"Boys, you about ready?" their father's voice called to them. "You don't want to be late on your first day."

"Who says we don't," Dean again mumbled under his breathe.

"Coming." he heard Sam yell as his brother pulled up his tie and put his blazer on. Dean did the same, but he left his tie loose. No sense in strangling himself before he had to.

John drove his sons to school and just before they entered the gate, John made Dean pull his tie up. It was a rule and he didn't want Dean in trouble on the first day.

He took Dean and Sam got their IDs and schedules. That's when his father pulled him aside for a little chat.

"Dean, I need you to listen, son," John addressed his eldest firmly. "I know you still don't want to be here, but the fact is, you are. I want you to make the best of it and yes that is an order."

"Yes, sir," Dean tried to say in a respectful tone and failed miserably, earning a glare from his father.

"I mean it, Jonathan Dean, no fighting and no stirring up trouble," John repeated and pointed to Dean's left wrist. "That says on your wrist. You don't take it off. When you get to the high school, you're supposed to report to the nurse's station and drop off your insulin. She's expecting you, so make sure you do it. When it's time for your shot, or to check your blood sugar, you get your supplies from her. Understand?"

Dean's face just dropped into a scowl.

"DEAN!" John prompted forcibly when his eldest didn't answer.

Dean let out a sigh and mumbled, "Yes, sir."

"Meet your brother outside his building at 4. I'm off at 4:30."

"Yes, sir," Dean repeated and walked away.

He walked Sam to his building and repeated his father's instructions.

""I'll meet you here at 4, Sammy," Dean told his little brother.

He heard his brother roughly correct him. Frustrated by his father's lecture, Dean let his temper get the better of him. "Whatever. Just be here at 4," he snapped.

He instantly felt bad when he heard his brother ask if he was okay and he apologized the only way he knew how. "Fine. Just hate school, you know that. Have a good day, Sam." He was glad when Sam accepted his apology.

He then left and walked over to the high school.

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**Sam's Homeroom**

Sam entered the junior high school. It was a little disconcerting at first to see everyone dressed the same, but he got used to it quickly. He checked the map he had been given and quickly made his way to his homeroom.

He entered the room and took a seat a couple rows back. He didn't want to seem like too big a geek by sitting front row center.

"Hey, you new?" he heard a voice call from behind him.

Sam turned to the boy behind him. "Yeah," he admitted.

"Good. Me too. I'm Conner Atwood."

"Sam Winchester," Sam said returning the greeting.

"We just moved here. Dad got appointed to a judgeship."

"Us, too," Sam replied. Sam debated whether or not to say that his father worked for the school. He made up his mind that he wasn't going to lie. "My dad's a mechanic. He works in the motor pool."

"Cool," Conner said. "Think he can introduce my big brother to the guy that owns the Impala? We saw it on the way in and we practically had to get a janitor to mop up Ben's drool."

"You mean the big black one?" Sam asked with a grin.

"Yup, Ben thought it might have been a '68."

"It's a '67," Sam repeated.

"How'd you know that?" Conner questioned. His big brother was an expert on cars, especially classics, and he couldn't tell from where he was standing.

"Because it's my father's car," Sam explained.

"Guess you can introduce him then?" Conner requested.

"Dad would love it. He loves that car. He treats it like a member of the family. What grade is your brother in?" Sam asked, hoping the guy would be Dean's age. He wanted his brother to fit in and if the guy liked cars, they would have something in common.

"11," Conner replied.

"So's my brother Dean."

"Think you can convince your father to take me for a ride. I'd love to make Ben jealous," Conner asked. "What's your first class?"

"Math," Sam said as he consulted his schedule.

"Mine too," Conner said. He asked Sam if he could see his schedule. "They're almost identical except for last period. Guess we better stick together. I heard it's an automatic detention if your late, if we're gonna get lost, at least we won't be in trouble alone."

"Sure," Sam grinned.

The homeroom teacher called the students to order, took attendance and accompanied them over to Westcott Hall for the opening day assembly.

_So far, so good, Sam thought as he followed his classmates. _

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**Dean's Homeroom**

Dean walked into the high school and like Sam, quickly located his homeroom. Unlike Sam, Dean didn't want anyone to notice him. He took a seat in the last row of the classroom, in the corner. He noticed a few others look at him curiously, but no one made any comments. He was, however, very interested in the conversation that was taking place around him.

"Hey, Neil," Ben Atwood called out.

Neil Millings lived next door to where the Atwoods had moved in and the two had quickly become friends. "Yeah, Ben, what's up?"

"Did you see that beauty that was parked in the employee's parking lot?"

_Bet they're talking about the Impala._

"Yeah, man," Neil agreed.

"I'd love to get my hands on it," Ben replied.

_Snowballs chance in hell, Dean thought in amusement._

_"_Impalas are nice, but I like mustangs," Neil remarked.

_I knew it. Guy's got no taste, Dean thought in disgust._

"A '68. I have to find out who owns it. I want to see if it's for sale," Ben replied.

_When hell freezes over and it's a '67._

Dean was seriously tempted to join in the conversation. He wondered if he should mention that it was his dad's car, but he immediately decided against it. He was determined to get through this day unnoticed. Plus, the car was in the employee parking lot and it would immediately announce him as an employee's son.

After a short time, the teacher arrived to lead his students to the assembly.

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**First half of Sam's Day**

After an extremely boring assembly, it was the same speech he and Dean had gotten when they enrolled, Sam followed his classmates back to their school. He was glad that it had taken up all of the first period and he had missed his math class, his least favourite. Dean was the math genius in the family.

According to his schedule, Sam's next class was science and he followed his new friend, Conner, to class. Their teacher asked them to seat themselves, two at each table, and whoever they sat beside was to be their lab partner for the remainder of the year. By unspoken agreement, Sam and Conner took a seat together.

One big difference Sam noticed between this school and his other ones was that in his old schools, the first day was usually spent learning your way around and meeting your classmates. The youngest Winchester didn't know if this was true for all prep schools, but as soon as his teacher handed out the textbooks, they started with chapter one. At the end of the class, the teacher gave out homework, something else Sam had never gotten on the first day. They had to answer the ten questions at the end of chapter one and make sure they read chapter 2.

Sam really enjoyed the class and it seemed to him that as soon as it started it was over. He grabbed his science textbook and Sam and Conner headed to their third period, history.

"I hope I can keep up," Conner said worriedly as they left class.

"Me, too," Sam replied. He was sure he could, but he didn't want to seem like to big a geek. It wasn't long before they came up to the room for their next class.

History was Sam's favourite subject and he really hoped that he had gotten a good teacher. He really found that made all the difference. The class ended up cementing his belief in heaven, because he was definitely already there.

As soon as he entered the class room, he knew that this was going to be no ordinary history class. First, rather than the desks in rows, they were in a big semi-circle, and his teacher told his students to call him Charlie. He said that he understood that the biggest complaints kids had about school was that sitting around listening to teachers was boring, and that they didn't get to study things they were interested in.

Charlie informed his students that this class would be more discussion based than lecture based. Then he went around the class and asked all the kids to name the part of history they were most interested in and assigned a term long project. It was up to them to narrow down the topic and present an outline. He assigned them to read chapter one in their textbooks so they could begin their discussions the next day.

This class flew by even faster than Sam's science class. To make things even better, Conner seemed as excited about it as Sam was.

"Man, this class sounds great," Sam remarked to Conner as they made their way to French.

"I know. I'm going to do my project on world war one," Conner replied. "How about you?"

"I think I'm going to focus on the Salem Witch trials," Sam answered. He had done lots of research on the origins of supernatural creatures, it was his favourite part of hunting. He was going to focus on the something he knew his father would approve of as a way to say thank you for sending him here.

Another area that really impressed Sam was that he was given a choice as to what language he wanted to study. At his old schools, it was French and that was it. Sam decided to continue with it since he had been taking it since grade 4 and made a decision he would start Spanish when he reached high school.

His brother had picked Latin, since thanks to Pastor Jim, both boys were fluent. Sam asked Dean what the point was in picking a language he already spoke. Dean told him that was the whole point. Sam just shook his head and signed up for his class as Dean affectionately referred to him as a geek.

Sam found that this French class was no different than his other ones, except for the fact that Sam once again ended up with homework on the first day. They had to conjugate verbs.

He couldn't believe it when he realized that the morning was over already and the two boys headed toward the cafeteria, talking about their classes the whole way.

Sam realized that he hadn't really given much thought to his big brother and he wondered how Dean was getting along. Sam hoped that he was okay.

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**First half of Dean's day**

Dean had been just as bored at the assembly as Sam had been. Dean had seen his brother talking to another boy and was glad that Sam seemed like he was fitting in, of course, it helped that the kid made friends as naturally as breathing.

Dean checked his class schedule and saw that he had missed social studies, and that he now had math. At least this was a subject he was good at.

He entered the class and once again took a seat in the back, trying to blend in with the scenery.

_Not that it__should be too__hard, Dean thought. We all look the same. Wonder if the teachers give us name tags to tell us apart. _

"Good morning, class," the teacher announced.

"Good morning, Mr. Jeter," the class returned the greeting in unison, except for Dean who slouched further down in his seat.

"Well come to 11A Math. We have a busy year, so we're going to get straight to chapter one. Mr. Matthews," he instructed a boy in the front row. "I want you to hand out the text books. Then everyone open to page 6."

Eric Jeter took attendance and eyed the new student in the back of the room. Dr. Webber had informed him about their newest student and instructed him to keep a close watch on him, as he had done with all of Dean's teachers.

He wondered if Dr. Webber might have been right about him because every time he looked at Dean, he appeared to be staring out of the window instead of paying attention. He had the perfect cure for that.

"Mr. Winchester, maybe you would be so kind as to tell us what x equals?"

Dean forced himself to turn to the problem on the board. His natural ability took over as he quickly calculated the answer. "Negative four," he answered confidently.

Eric looked over at Dean in surprise. Maybe he had misjudged him.

Dean was happy to hear the bell at the end of math, he was just that much closer to getting out of here for the day. He made his way to his locker to drop off his math textbook, shaking his head in disbelief that he had homework on the first day. He had to answer all the practice questions at the end of chapter one for homework. At least this was something that shouldn't take him too long.

Just as Dean was about to shut the door to his locker, his bracelet caught his eye. He felt out of place enough here as it was, he really didn't want to advertise his weakness. His father had left no loop holes when it came to his bracelet, so to remove it, Dean would have to defy a direct order from his father. Making up his mind, he pulled the bracelet off and stuffed it in his pocket. No sooner had he done that, he heard a voice beside him.

"Ah, man, I can't believe I got stuck with Latin," the voice complained. Dean looked around to see who he might be talking to. He was surprised to discover the boy had addressed him.

"Uh, you don't like it?" Dean said just for something to say.

"No way. I wanted French. We spend summers in Paris and I can speak it perfectly."

Dean could understand that. It was precisely why he had sighed up for Latin.

"How come you didn't?" Dean asked curiously.

"My mom wouldn't let me," the boy said with a sigh. "She said that it would give me a more well rounded education to take something else. I wanted Spanish. All you have to do is get Professor Hernandez talking about the Spanish Inquisition and then you can catch up on your sleep."

Dean wondered very briefly how his mom would have felt about him taking a language he already spoke. He refused dwell on the subject so he asked Gray another question. "How'd you end up in Latin?"

The boy sighed. "We got back late and when I registered, Spanish was full. It's a popular class because it's easy. What about you?"

"Latin," Dean said.

"Lucky you. You sign up late too?"

"Yeah," Dean admitted. It was true. "But I would have picked it anyway. My dad's best friend is a Pastor."

"Ah, so I take it you speak it?"

"Yeah," Dean admitted.

"Great, can I copy off you?"

"If you want," Dean said with a shrug. _Was he serious?_

"We better go, we don't want to be late. Oh, by the way, I better introduce myself if I'm going to be cheating off you. I can just hear my mother now. 'Grayson, where are your manners. I taught you better than that'," he said in a shrill voice and Dean couldn't help but grin. "I'm Grayson Remington, but you can call me Gray. Only my mom, grandmother, Battle Axe Becky and Dr. Dick call me Grayson," he said as he held out his hand.

Dean couldn't help but give a chuckle as he returned Gray's handshake. "John Winchester Jr, but I go by Dean. Who's battle axe Becky, and Dr. Dick?"

"Dean, you've got a lot to learn," Gray said as the two boys headed toward their Latin class, with Gray filling him in on the way. Dean learned the nicknames of several of the schools teachers and his favourite was the student body nickname of the school's headmaster. Dean thought Dr. Dick fit him perfectly.

Latin went smoothly, for which Dean was thankful. He was surprised when Gray sat next to him though. _Maybe he was serious about copying. _

Dean was dreading the end of Latin because after that came English, his absolute worst subject and the fact that, according to Gray, his English teacher was nicknamed Battle Axe Becky didn't help matters.

English class turned into the nightmare Dean had feared it would be. If Sam's history class cemented his belief that there was a heaven, English cemented Dean's belief in hell. His teacher, Rebecca Kitchner announced that they would be spending the entire term on poetry and the young hunter knew he was in trouble. At least at his other school, they covered other topics and Dean was even willing to admit that he'd sort of enjoyed the short story section when they studied Edgar Allen Poe, but he equated poetry with supernatural creatures, pure hatred.

To make matters worse, the teacher refused to call him Dean. She informed him that his name was Jonathan. He had come close to getting a detention when the teacher had called on him twice before he answered. He wasn't used to Jonathan and he hadn't realized she was talking to him. He found himself blushing after one of the other kids snickered at him not answering to his own name.

After what seemed like an eternity, the bell finally rang, releasing Dean from his hell on earth.

The one bright spot was that Gray had been in his class. Afterwards, Gray informed him that he shouldn't worry too much about what happened, because it happened frequently to the very kid who laughed at him, informing the middle Winchester that "Crusher," was the school's star linebacker on the football team and often forgot that his real name was Herman.

"Thank God it's lunch," Gray said as they left class. "I'm starving. You can sit with us in the cafeteria with us if you want."

Dean wondered exactly who us was, but he really didn't dwell too much on that because he had a bigger problem. He had to go to the nurse's office, as it was time for his needle. His father had told him that the nurse was going to be expecting him, so if he skipped it, she would wonder what had happened to him. If he took it after lunch, he could risk a hypo in his next class.

"I have to use the washroom," Dean said coming up with an excuse.

"I'll save you a seat," Gray offered as he left and made his way to the cafeteria, leaving Dean to wonder exactly what had just happened. Had he just made a friend?

He went to the nurse's office and slipped inside. He accepted his supplies and the nurse left him alone to do his thing. He took his blood sugar and wasn't surprised to find it a bit low, he found that stress did that to him. He prepared the syringe and injected his insulin and ate a few glucose tablets on the way to the cafeteria to be on the safe side. There was no way he was risking passing out.

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**Sam's lunch****period.**

Sam and Conner entered the cafeteria and he and Conner grabbed a lunch of lasagne and coke and made their way to a table. They continued to get to know each other. Sam learned that Conner's mother was doctor and his father was a judge, he had one older brother and a younger sister, who attended Benchley Hall, Westcott's sister school.

Sam told him about his brother Dean, his father and Uncle Bobby. He just mentioned general stuff, nothing that would give away any family secrets.

"Anyone sitting here?" another boy asked, coming up to the table where Sam and Conner sat.

"No," Sam said and gestured for the boy to sit down.

"I'm Randy Welling," he introduced himself.

"Sam Winchester."

"Conner Atwood."

"You new?" Sam asked.

"How can you tell?" Randy said.

"So are we," Conner confirmed.

"Cool, I'm glad I'm not the only one," replied Randy. "You guys have history yet?"

"Yup. I think Charlie's going to be such a cool teacher," Sam said.

"Me too," said Randy. "I'm doing my project on the renaissance. I love art. It's my favourite subject."

"I took photography for my elective," Conner said.

"I'm taking debating," Sam replied.

"I think social studies is going to be tough. We have an essay due at the end of the week," Randy informed them.

"Haven't had it yet," Sam replied.

"I heard that Mr. Julian is tough," said Conner.

"I'm just glad I missed French, it's my worst subject. I love English though," said Randy.

"Sam here is really good at history, I'm good at science and you're good at English. It's a good thing we all met. Between the three of us, I'm sure we can get through everything," Conner remarked confidently.

Sam once again found himself in seventh heaven. He had made friends that liked talking about school work and neither one cared that Sam was attending because his father worked for the school. Sam found himself really wanting to find his father and give him a big thank you for sending him here. By the end of lunch, he felt as if he had known Randy and Conner his whole life.

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**Dean's lunch period.**

Dean headed toward the cafeteria after taking his meds. He grabbed a tray and joined the lunch line. He debated his choices the whole way through. He really wanted the lasagne, but pasta contained a lot of carbohydrates and Dean had a training session that night, he really needed to save his carbohydrates for dinner. Dean had health studies rather than gym that afternoon, so he needed to be careful about how may calories he consumed to prevent his blood sugar from getting too high, since he was going to be sitting inactive for the remainder of the afternoon. Finally, he took a turkey sandwich, vegetable soup and an apple. He debated whether to have milk or pop. He knew he should have milk, but he was already self conscious about his lunch already. Then he was presented with a new problem, diet or regular. Regular pop was one of the worst things for him, as it contained a lot of sugar, so with a sigh, he grabbed diet. He was already disobeying a direct order by removing his bracelet, he didn't need to break another by ignoring his diet.

He looked around for an empty table. He didn't really think Gray had saved him a seat, so he was shocked when he saw Gray gesturing to him. He wondered if he should have signed up for debating with Sam, because he seemed to be doing that a lot with himself lately.

Gray was sitting with four other boys and Dean wasn't sure how he would be received. He really wanted to find spot somewhere off by himself. Before he could make up his mind, he saw Gray wave him over again and he didn't want to be rude, so he made his way over to Gray's table.

"Hey guys, this is Dean," Gray introduced him. "He's agreed to let me copy his Latin homework, so now I won't flunk out. Dean, this is Ben, Neil, Jamie and Cody," he said pointing them out. Dean recognized Neil and Ben from his homeroom and their conversation about the Impala.

Dean listened as everyone talked about their mornings, only speaking himself if someone asked him a direct question, instead he concentrated on his lunch. His appetite still hadn't returned, but he knew that he had to make himself eat, wishing all the while that this day would end. He was glad when the lunch bell rang, allowing him to make an escape.

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**Sam's afternoon.**

Gym was the youngest Winchester's first period after lunch. It wasn't his favourite subject, but thanks to his father's training schedule, he was in good shape and a decent athlete, but still not as good as his brother who shone at sports. It was also a relief that he wasn't assigned any more homework.

Next on the schedule was social studies and Sam found out just what Randy had been talking about. It was going to be a tough class, there seemed to be twice the workload of his other classes, but Sam enjoyed a challenge and he was looking forward to it.

Sam didn't mind English and his teacher, Mr. Baker, seemed nice. His favourite part was hearing that they were going to focus on creative writing. The youngest Winchester loved to write.

Then came the moment Sam had been waiting for all day. All students at Westcott in junior high or above got to pick an elective and study something that truly interested them. There were all kinds of classes that Sam had never seen at his other schools. There were art classes, cooking classes, welding, carpentry, to name but a few. One look at the list and Sam instantly choose debating. It had just felt right, after all, he had lots of practice arguing with his father.

Sam throughly enjoyed the class, even more than he had enjoyed history. His teacher, Ms. Dixon, went through the things they were going to cover. They did some fun practice debates at the end and Sam couldn't believe it when he was assigned to present an argument that vampires weren't real. It wasn't hard, after all, according to his father, they were extinct.

He couldn't wait to meet up with Dean tell him about his friends and his first day. He hoped that his big brother's day had gone as well as his had.

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**Dean's afternoon.**

The eldest Winchester went to his history class after lunch. He was glad to see that Gray was in it. He was also pleasantly surprised when Gray indicated that he should sit in the seat next to him. _Wonder if he would have done that if his other friends were there, Dean thought. _

The class progressed quickly enough for which Dean was thankful.

"Alright, class," Mrs. Oliver said just before the end of the period. "For homework tonight, I want you to read chapter one of your textbooks and do the chapter questions, plus I want a group project on the subject of the American Revolution. It will be due next Friday. We're going to work in pairs. Before you pick your best friend though, we're going to mix things up and I'll assign your partner."

The class groaned wondering who they were going to work have to work with.

"Mr. Winchester and Mr. Remington, sounds like a good match to me." Dean couldn't believe his luck.

After class, Dean and Gray went their separate ways. Gray had biology and Dean had physics. Unlike the junior high which took science, high schoolers were allowed to pick what type of science they wanted to study. Dean had picked physics as it was almost like math and it came easy to him.

After physics came health studies. Then, like Sam, Dean's elective. It was the lone bright spot to attending this hell hole that one of the subjects on the list was auto shop. Neil and Ben were in the class and Dean could hear them still talking about the Impala. They did say a quick hello to him, though, and invited him to join their group, along with a boy named George.

The other plus was that they needed to remove their ties and blazers, under the coveralls. Dean wasn't surprised to see the school crest was on the coveralls.

Dean felt content for the first time all day. He was in his element around the cars and he was able to join in the conversation. When it switched to the Impala, Dean couldn't help but state his opinion that he felt the Impala in the employee parking lot was a '67. He found that this was the class that passed way too quickly and he couldn't believe it when the bell rang.

Dean was just happy he hadn't made any enemies yet. It was only the first day, but he had managed to get through it without detention or problems from his diabetes. He went to go meet his brother hoping that Sam had a good day.

He barely got his bracelet on in time when Sam joined him.

"Hey, Dean," Sam said excitedly. "Isn't this place great? I made two new friends. Conner's in all my classes except for debating. He took Photography. Randy's in three of my classes, and guess what?" Sam said and didn't wait for an answer before rushing on. "My history teacher wants us to call him Charlie and we get to have discussions rather than lectures, and he's letting us do a term project on whatever we want. I'm going to do the witch trials. Plus, I won my debate and you'll never guess what it was on. We did something fun and I had to debate the fact that vampires aren't real. I really kicked my opponent's butt. He didn't know what to say."

"Sam," Dean said trying to get a word in edge wise.

"What?" Sam asked in exasperation. He wasn't done.

"Breathe," Dean advised.

"Very funny," Sam said as the brothers made their way over to the maintenance building to meet their father. "Guess what, Dean?" Sam began again. "Conner's brother Ben is in your class and Conner said that Ben loved dad's Impala. I told Conner it was dad's and..."

"You what?" Dean interrupted Sam. Now it was going to be all over school tomorrow that they were employee kids.

"Ben wanted to meet the guy that owned the Impala," Sam continued, missing the anxiety in Dean's tone. "When I told Conner it was dad's, he wanted to go for a ride to make his brother jealous. Do you think dad will take him for a ride?" Sam asked.

"If he doesn't, I will," Dean said. He would do anything for Sam and this sounded important to him.

"Thanks, Dean. How was your day?" he inquired seriously.

"I survived," Dean admitted.

They arrived at their destination and met their father. Sam began talking about his day all over again. He asked his father about Conner and John agreed that he would give the boy a ride home one day. When John inquired about how his eldest had spent his day, Dean just repeated the same thing he had told Sam.

John did ask Dean about his blood sugar and Dean was honestly able to answer it was fine. He had looked after himself. He was just glad that his father didn't ask about his bracelet.

They arrived back home to find Bobby waiting for them. He hadn't been able to pass up a chance to see Dean in his uniform. It was only a passing glance though because as soon as Dean got into the house, the first thing he did was change out of it. He wasn't surprised when he came into the living room and found Sam recounting his day once again. Bobby managed to get a little more out of Dean and both John and Bobby were encouraged when he told them about Gray.

John really hoped that things were going to work out for a change. At midnight, John decided to call it a night. He once again paused by his boys' room and watched them sleep. They were in their usual positions, Sam facing the wall and Dean guarding the door.

"Night, boys," John said and continued down the hall to his room.

TBC

Please read and review. I love feedback.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Still don't own them

Thank you to Soar for the beta, and Sinead-Conlan for checking my medical facts. Any left over mistakes are mine.

"_**Jonathan Dean, if I have to call you one more time, I swear..."**_ John's voice came thundering down the hall.

"Coming," Dean cut him off before he could finish his statement. If his dad finished that thought, he'd be banned from driving. His father hated calling them more than once.

He was awake, but he had yet to drag himself out of bed. He was too busy having another debate with himself. He was trying to decide how to get out of going to school. He knew that Sam's friend had been sure to tell his brother who owned the Impala. _Maybe I could pretend to be sick, but then dad's going to freak over how it will affect my stupid diabetes and I'll end up at the doctors. Would be hard to skip when Dad works there. Maybe I could deck anyone who says something and get expelled. Nope that wouldn't work either, then dad would expel me from breathing. _Knowing it was hopeless, he resigned himself to having to go to school, and with a sigh, dragged himself out of bed and headed toward the kitchen to get his insulin.

After showering and taking his medication, he went for breakfast, wondering if his appetite would ever return. Eating was no fun anymore, it seemed more like one of his daily chores. He couldn't put anything in his mouth without wondering how many calories, or carbohydrates and grams of sugar might be in it. He just wanted to sit down with Sam_**my**_ and get some truly awful movies and have a good old fashioned junk food pig out. Real pop, chips, chocolate bars, caramel corn, ice cream sundaes and Lucky Charms just to start with, but he knew the consequences if he did that.

_Ironic, he thought as he made his way to the kitchen. Before he'd__found out he had diabetes, his family rarely ate a meal together. His dad was always on a hunt and Sam constantly asked to eat in front of the TV while doing homework. Now they were together for almost every meal and he was the one that didn't want to be there._

John was at the stove making breakfast. He glanced at the clock once more as he listened to his youngest chat away about how great his day was going to be. He knew Dean was awake and in the shower, but he seemed to be taking forever this morning. Before he could call his eldest again, the young hunter entered the kitchen and sat in his usual place at the breakfast table. John quickly served up plates of blueberry waffles.

Dean eyed the bottle of syrup that was on the table. He loved to drown his waffles, in fact, Sam used to tease him about having some waffles with his maple syrup. Unfortunately, now he had to eat them plain, as syrup was another food he was supposed to avoid. He didn't know if his father hadn't found any sugar free syrup the last time he was at the grocery store, or if he just didn't think to look for any. The young hunter suspected the latter. At least these had blueberries in them, giving them a small amount of flavour.

Sam was reaching for the syrup when he saw his brother glance at the bottle. He felt bad for him and making a quick decision, he pulled his hand back, picked up his fork and started to eat his waffles plain.

"Sam," Dean started.

John watched the scene before him and he cursed himself for not remembering to look for the sugar free stuff. He and Sam were mostly following Dean's diet to try and make things easier on him. John tried to keep sugary foods out of the house, or he avoided eating them in front of his eldest. John made the same decision as Sam. He got up, grabbed the syrup off the table and threw it in the garbage.

"It was bad anyway," he stated as he sat down to eat his waffles.

"Good thing you caught that, dad," Sam said with a little grin.

Dean just shook his head and returned to his breakfast.

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John drove the boys to school and once inside the gates, he tossed the keys to his eldest.

"This is my day to work late and you have a check-up after school," John reminded Dean as the middle Winchester reached out and caught the keys in his hand. "Jim said he'd give me a ride home, so Sam, you can wait here at the library until 6 and come home with me, or you can go home with Dean after school and keep him company at the doctor's office."

"I'll go with Dean," Sam said. He had hardly seen his brother in the last few days and he wanted to spend some time with him. Plus, he knew how Dean felt about doctors and even though his brother would never admit it, Sam knew he would be grateful for the company.

Dean just scowled. This day was starting out crappy. The only redeeming thing was that he at least got to drive the Impala. He drove it to the student parking lot and walked Sam to his building. Sam wanted to protest that he didn't need an escort, but he knew that his big brother prided himself on watching out for him and Dean wouldn't listen to him anyway. It was just easier to keep the peace.

Sam could see Randy and Conner waiting for him at the entrance and the youngest Winchester was glad to have a chance to introduce them to his brother. Conner informed Dean that his brother Ben couldn't wait to ask him about the car, confirming Dean's fears that everyone now knew.

After dropping Sam off, Dean went to his own building, removing his bracelet and dropping it into his pocket. He then headed straight for the nurse's office to drop off his meds. That was another thing he hated about this school. At his old one, he just had to pop into the bathroom and check his blood sugar, now he had to go to the nurse's office every time.

Glancing at his watch, Dean realized that he had about 15 minutes before homeroom started and he was trying to time his entrance so that he wouldn't have to deal with Ben. He knew he couldn't put it off forever, but he wanted to delay it for as long as possible. He went to his locker and dropped off his textbooks, all the while wondering why he even bothered. He'd had homework in every class except auto shop. It had taken him 2 hours to complete it last night and he hadn't gotten his extra half hour of training in. He spent most of that on English, knowing he couldn't afford to fall behind. Somehow, he didn't think this teacher would give him any second chances like his 10th grade English teacher, Ms. Reynolds, had done.

"Hey, Dean," he heard a voice greet him. He turned to look and saw Gray opening his own locker.

"Hey," Dean returned the greeting tentatively.

"Ready for another day?" Gray asked.

"I guess," Dean said with a small shrug. He grabbed his binder and pulled out his Latin homework. "Did you want this?" he asked. He guessed that was why Gray was talking to him.

The other boy looked at the completed list of conjugated verbs. "Ah, sorry Dean, I was kidding. I usually use it as an ice breaker. My mother would kill me if I got caught cheating."

"So would my dad actually," Dean said truthfully as he gave a sigh of relief that Gray hadn't been serious.

"My brother was almost expelled from Westcott, he was caught plagiarising an essay for history. Dad donated money for new computers to keep Thayer from getting kicked out."

"I thought it was an automatic expulsion?" Dean asked. Dr. Dick made sure to emphasize that.

"This place is just like anywhere else. Thayer was the star quarterback, without him they didn't have a chance and they want to keep the alumni happy, so dad was offered a way to keep him in school. It's the same with Cody. He's the school's star point guard on the basketball team. He should have flunked out last year, but they needed his jump shot. His dad donated the money for new basketball uniforms. Don't believe a word of Dr. Dick's speech. His main job is to make sure the donations keep rolling in."

Dean knew none of that applied to himself, he wasn't rich. He realized that Gray was still speaking.

"Dr. Dick is one of the biggest hypocrites. He goes on about maintaining the school's academic standards and honor and all that crap. He says that attending this school is a privilege, but that's complete bull. Admission is based on two things, entrance examination scores are considered, but if you fail and make a generous enough donation, it gets you on the list."

"What about the employee rule?" Dean asked tentatively.

"It's done as good will," Gray explained. "Dr. Dick wants to eliminate it. He thinks someone should earn their place in this school. His son Steven is in junior high here, but of course, he doesn't think that the rule applies to his own son. I personally think the guy is full of crap. Well, anyway, I better get to homeroom. I'll see you in Latin," he said as he started to walk away. He stopped and turned to look back over his shoulder. "Oh, do you want to come over to my place after school today, we need to start work on our history project."

He was all set to agree when he remembered his doctor's appointment. He couldn't skip it, his dad would kill him. "How about tomorrow?" he offered. "I have something to do today."

"No problem," Gray said agreeably. "I'll see you in Latin."

Dean headed toward his homeroom thinking about what Gray had told him. He re-affirmed his vow to keep himself out of trouble. He knew the headmaster had it in for him.

He timed his entrance to homeroom perfectly, taking his seat as soon as the bell rang. He could see Ben shoot him a couple looks that he couldn't interpret, and was glad when he could make his escape.

Social Studies was the class that he had missed yesterday due to the opening day assembly. When it was over, he was left wondering whether this or his English class was worse. It wasn't the subject matter, it was the fact that the teacher seemed to have it in for him. The first thing he did was give out assigned seating, something Dean hadn't experienced since he was in elementary school, and the young hunter ended up almost front row in the center. Mr. Wright seemed to call on him twice as often and frowned if Dean couldn't come up with the answer right away. Then he seemed to pile on the homework as if he was making up for not being able to give any yesterday.

The rest of the morning passed much too slowly for the young hunter. Latin and Math were fine, but English was every bit the nightmare it had been the day before and Dean found himself getting further behind. He honestly didn't know if he was going to be able keep up. He sucked when it came to poetry. Plus, there was the problem he was experiencing at the end of class.

Gray invited him to sit with him and his friends in the cafeteria once again, but Dean had to go to the nurse's office. With Gray in his English class, how was he going to explain to him everyday that he couldn't go directly to the cafeteria?

_You could just tell him the truth, he thought to himself. If he is truly your friend,__he won't care. _

"I have to stop by my locker," was what came out of his mouth.

"Kay. I'll save you a seat," Gray offered once again.

"Thanks," Dean said.

After visiting the nurse's office, he entered the cafeteria and got in the lunch line. He had gym that afternoon so he helped himself to a burger and fries, his usual diet coke and an apple. He wondered if he should sit by himself, but like the day before, he saw Gray waving to him. He really hoped that his friends weren't going to start anything.

"How come you never said that Impala was your father's?" Ben asked immediately as he sat down.

Dean just shrugged. He wasn't sure what to say and he wanted to kick his own ass for being such a wimp. Why did he care so much? He realized it was probably because he was here for the long haul. They weren't leaving in a couple of months, unless a cure for diabetes was discovered. It was bad enough being here and if everyone hated him, then it was going to make it even more miserable.

"Go for a ride," was all Dean heard.

"Sorry, what?" Dean asked.

"I said you have to take me for a ride," Ben repeated.

"Ah, sure," Dean stammered.

"Think your dad would sell?" Ben inquired.

"No way," Dean said emphatically. "My dad got that car when he graduated high school. He'd cut off his right arm before he would sell it."

"Where's your dad work?" Cody asked.

"Yeah, what part of the school does he work for?" Jamie added snidely.

"He's a mechanic," Dean mumbled.

"You should tell him that he parked in the wrong spot," Cody commented.

"No he didn't," Dean said defensively. "He has to work late tonight so I have to drive me and my brother home."

"You only have one car?" Neil asked in surprise.

"What about it?" Dean snapped, his temper growing.

"I didn't mean anything by it," Neil replied. He really hadn't, but it just slipped out. His parents and he and his sister each had their own cars. In fact, everyone he knew had their own car.

"Guys, chill," Gray said trying to be the voice of reason.

Dean wanted nothing more than to storm off, but he was only half done eating. He had to finish his meal, especially since he had gym that afternoon. He stuffed some fries in his mouth and tried to keep his temper in check. The faster he ate, the faster he could escape.

As soon as he had eaten the last bite, he grabbed his tray and returned it to the counter before bolting out of the cafeteria.

"Dean, wait up," Gray called and took off after Dean. Sometimes his friends could be real jerks.

"Guys," Ben said in an exasperated tone. "You might have blown my only chance to get into that car."

"He's an employee kid," Cody said rudely.

"So," Ben said.

"Yeah, so," added Neil.

"I think he deserves a proper welcome, don't you?" Jamie said.

"Oh, yeah," Cody answered, his mind already coming up with some ideas.

"What's that?" Ben asked. He didn't think it was anything good and he was new too.

"It's our way of welcoming new students to the school," Cody said.

"Don't worry, Ben, it's reserved for the employee students and scholarship kids."

"Forget it, guys," Neil added. "Gray's never going to go for it."

Neil Millings remembered back to when he was new. He had started at Westcott about 3 years ago. His mother had been offered a job at a prestigious law firm and his father had decided to expand his architectural firm and opened a second office so his mother could accept the job. On his first day, Gray had come up to him and asked to copy his math homework. Thinking the guy was serious, he had almost told him right where to go. Gray had laughed and clapped him on the back and told him he was kidding. Neil had been hanging out with him ever since.

Apparently, Gray, Cody Arrindale and Jamison (Jamie) Wallingford had attended Westcott since kindergarten and had hung out together ever since. Neil had been attending the school for two months when he first heard the term "proper welcome". There had been a boy by the name of Lee Hillman who had earned his way into the school on a full scholarship. Someone in his French class had proposed giving the new boy one. The whole purpose of the proper welcome was to humiliate.

Neil was never exactly sure what was done to Lee, but he hadn't shown up at school again after that day.

He had asked Gray about it and he let Neil know that he hated the tradition and would never take part in one. He said if you didn't like someone, then you just didn't hang out with them.

Jamie and Cody had never done one either. They knew Gray's feeling on the subject and given that he was their unspoken leader, they deferred to his judgement, but then they had never really hung out with an employee kid before.

Ben was torn. He thought Dean was okay from the little he knew of him from auto shop, but he was new himself and Gray, Cody and Jamie were some of the most popular kids in the school. Cody was the star point guard on the basketball team and Jamie was the star quarterback on the football team. Gray was probably the smartest student in the whole school and a member of the Academic Elite team, which competed in academic competitions, but he seemed to like Dean. He decided he was going to stay neutral.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Jamie conceded.

"We better get to class," Cody added and motioned for Jamie to follow him.

When they got out of the cafeteria, Cody turned to his friend. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"That what Gray doesn't know won't hurt him? I'll see you after geography. We have a proper welcome to plan."

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While that was going on, Dean had stalked off down the hall towards his locker. He yanked it open, grabbed his history text and then slammed it shut. He'd known this was going to happen. What disappointed him most was that he genuinely liked Gray. He was surprised when he turned and almost ran into the young man.

"Dean, I just wanted to say I'm sorry. Those guys can be jerks sometimes."

_Try all the time, Dean thought._

"They also don't speak for me. I don't care why you're here," Gray said sincerely. "Come on, let's get to history. I need to make sure I get a seat next to you."

Dean was left more confused than ever.

History and physics passed uneventfully, as did gym, though he noted that his coach seemed to be impressed with his athletic skills. After a workout, Dean knew he was supposed to check his blood sugar, the problem there was that his supplies were all at the nurse's station. If he went there, he was going to be late for his next class, which meant detention, which meant he would miss his doctor's appointment, which meant his dad would kill him. Hell, he'd probably think Dean had gotten detention on purpose to get out of his check up.

He surprised himself by finding himself outside the nurse's station. He guessed he had made up his mind. He tested himself and was immediately glad that he had. The stress of the day and the workout had given him a low reading. He fished an orange out of his backpack and quickly ate it on the way to auto shop. He had a pass from the nurse to explain why he was late, but if he hadn't had to see his doctor, he would have just taken the detention.

He arrived five minutes after class had started, but for once, luck was on his side and his teacher, Mr. Dockerty was late. By the time he got there, Dean was in his coveralls standing with Neil, Ben and George. He hadn't been sure what to expect, but they were all friendly to him and he began to wonder if it just might be Cody and Jamie who were the jerks. Every school had them.

When the teacher arrived, the class teased him good naturedly about being late. He said he'd give them all a freebie if they didn't tell his boss.

This was the young hunter's favourite time of day. Mr. D, as his class called him, was one of his nicest teachers and Dean loved being around the automobiles. Plus, George seemed to be the class clown and kept them all in stitches.

Ben even asked him where he had learned his skills. Dean told him about his uncle Bobby and Neil asked if they could meet him sometime.

Dean made up his mind to stop by his Bobby's after his appointment. He really needed some advice.

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Sam's day had been going as well as it had yesterday. His friendship with Randy and Conner was cemented and the youngest Winchester told them about his friend Max. Randy suggested that they all get together some day. Sam was all for it.

He met Dean after school and once again told Dean about every minute of his day. Dean listened with a grin on his face. He loved it when Sam was happy. He was willing to put up with prep school if it kept his dad and his brother from arguing.

He just wished he had time to go home and change out of his uniform before his appointment, but he didn't so instead, he just shed his jacket and tie. He wasn't surprised when Sam left his on. He was, however, grateful for Sam's presence at the doctor's office. He was also glad that his check up went well and he stopped by the receptionist's desk to schedule his next one and picked up his prescriptions. He and Sam drove to the mall so he could drop them off and he came up with an idea.

Since he had to turn in all his supplies and the nurse took inventory, he toyed with the idea of buying a second glucose meter and hiding it in his bag, so he didn't have to go to the nurse's office if something came up and he'd have to check his blood sugar. He had some of the money Bobby had given him for helping out in the salvage yard but a look at the prices had him changing his mind. Even the cheapest one was more than he could afford. He forced down the small flash of guilt that threatened when he was once again reminded just how expensive his illness was. He sighed and resigned himself to having to go to the nurse's office. He just hoped he didn't have to test himself too often outside his scheduled times.

He was enjoying spending time with his brother though and he called his father and asked if it was okay if he and Sam went out to eat. John agreed, he just asked his boys to make sure they brought him home something. Dean also got permission to stop by Bobby's house. His dad just told him to make sure he was home in time to get his homework done.

The brothers pulled into Singer Salvage after dinner and went into the house looking for Bobby. They knew he was home because his truck was in the yard. Sam spotted some new books on Bobby's table and said he wanted to take a look at them, adding that he would join them out in the salvage yard when he was done. Dean questioned his younger brother as to how he could tell they were new. Sam just looked at him. Dean shrugged and left to go find Bobby.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean said greeting the older man as he entered the garage.

Bobby had thought that he had heard the Impala. "Hey, Dean. Where's Sammy and your daddy?"

"Dad had to work late. By the way, better not let Sam hear you call him that, he's decided he wanted to be called Sam now."

"He's always gonna be Sammy," Bobby said stubbornly, drawing a grin from the young hunter. "What's up?"

"Do I need an excuse to visit?" Dean asked.

"No, but I know you and something's on your mind, so spill," Bobby instructed firmly.

Dean found the whole story pouring out. How he'd met Gray the other day, the conversation they'd had that morning, what happened in the cafeteria, and Gray coming after him, Ben and Neil being friendly to him in auto shop and him not knowing what to make of the situation.

When he was done, Bobby was silent for awhile. "Sounds like you want to be friends with Gray."

"But does he want to be friends with me?" Dean questioned, not denying Bobby's statement.

"I'd say he does," Bobby confirmed.

"But what about..."

"Don't look for things that aren't there, son," Bobby advised. "You said yourself he came after you and apologized for what happened in the cafeteria. He's saved you a spot next to him for the last two days, you said he sat beside you in all the classes you had together. Actions speak louder than words, Dean." Bobby found he wanted to find Dean's father and smack him upside the head again. It seemed Dean wouldn't let himself believe that he made a friend all on his own. Dean had never let himself to have a true friend because they moved to often and the young hunter tended to isolate himself from kids his own age. It did Bobby's heart good that Dean seemed to be moving away from that.

"What about Ben and Neil though? I know Cody and Jamie hate me."

"I would say that it sounds Neil agrees with Gray. Just be yourself, Dean. If Ben, Jamie and Cody don't want to be friends with you because your father works for the school, it's their problem."

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean said sincerely. The elder hunter could always make him feel better.

"Where's Sammy," Bobby asked changing the subject.

"Found your new books. He should be here shortly."

As if on cue, the youngest Winchester came into the yard. "Can I borrow this, Bobby?" he asked holding up a book on witchcraft. "It's perfect for my history project."

"Go ahead, Sammy," Bobby replied, to which the youngest Winchester replied "It's Sam."

Bobby just had to glance at him. "Just not in public okay?" Sam asked finally.

"Okay," Bobby conceded and left Dean shaking his head at how Bobby did that.

They visited for awhile and then left for home. Sam filled his father in on his day and Dean sat down at the table and began his homework, as did his younger brother. Dean was happy that he and Sammy had reached a compromise. Like Bobby, Dean was allowed to call him Sammy at home, but if he did it in public, look out.

Dean got permission from his father to go to Gray's house after school the next day and Dean surprised himself in that he was looking forward to it, because he really wanted to get to know his friend better. He finished up his homework, put a quick call into Kelsey to confirm their date that weekend, and spent the rest of the evening enjoying his dad's and brother's company.

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With the exception of English and Social Studies, the next day passed quickly for the middle Winchester. Dean used the excuse that he need to ask the teacher something when, once again, Gray asked him to sit with them. Ben and Neil were friendly enough to him and Dean found he didn't mind that Cody and Jamie seemed to ignore him.

When school had finished for the day, Dean followed Gray out to his car. He admired the Viper that Gray owned. When he got into the car, he realized he had a new problem. His diet called for him to have a snack after school, plus, he usually took his third injection around dinner time. He really hoped that they were going to be done by then. He didn't want to have to try and find a way to inject himself at Gray's place, even though his kit was in his backpack, he wasn't sure how he supposed to take that into the bathroom with him. His biggest wish was just to get through this afternoon.

When they got to Gray's house, Dean couldn't believe his eyes. It was bigger than anything he had ever seen. There were tennis courts, a swimming pool and a lawn the size of a football field.

As they walked up toward the front door, hunter's instincts told Dean something was up with his friend.

"Something on your mind?" he questioned.

"Just have to let you know something. My parents are the original snobs that all other snobs were cloned from. I can hear my mother now," Gray said and launched into the shrill voice he used when he imitated his mother. "Oh Grayson, dear, how wonderful to meet your new little friend. Hello dear, I'm Schyler Remington what's your name and what do your parents do?" Gray stopped and took on his normal voice. "She's not going to approve, but please don't let her get to you, she's so caught up in her socializing that by tomorrow, she'll have forgotten she even met you. Promise me, okay?" he said firmly.

Dean was nervous about being here and agreed to try. "What about your father?" he asked.

"He works late, you won't ever meet him."

Dean wondered if he meant to say even meet him, but he guessed that Gray's father was one of those career guys. On that note, he could relate. Until he got sick, his father was never around, he was always away on a hunt.

He took a deep breath and followed his friend into his house.

The inside of the Remington house was even fancier than the outside. Dean knew nothing about art, but even he could tell the stuff on the walls was probably expensive. No sooner had he entered than a man dressed in what appeared to Dean as a tuxedo came up to them.

"Hello, Master Grayson. Would you like me to take your coat?"

"Thanks, Williams," Gray said and handed him his blazer. "Williams, this is Dean. Dean, this is Williams, our butler."

"Hello," Dean replied. He wondered if he was supposed to stick out his hand. _Did you do that with the help?_

"Would you like me to take your coat as well?"

"Uh, sure," Dean replied awkwardly and handed it to him. "Thanks."

"First things first," Gray said. "I need a snack, how about you?"

"Yeah," Dean agreed casually, thankful that his luck was holding out. He followed Gray into the kitchen.

"You thirsty?" he asked the young hunter.

"Yeah," Dean replied wondering what had happened to his vocabulary skills. He really felt out of his element here. He looked up and was pleasantly surprised to see Gray holding a can of diet coke toward him. He accepted it gratefully.

"I noticed that you seemed to prefer it. Edith, our cook, makes the best chocolate cake. You want some?"

Dean did, he really did. He hadn't had cake since his diagnosis, he sighed internally before answering. "I'm allergic to chocolate," he said lamely.

"That sucks," Gray said. "There's a bowl of fruit on the table if you want some grapes or an apple."

Dean helped himself to the fruit while he watched Gray devour a big piece of cake, all the while wondering just how much it would hurt to have a small piece, but he knew he couldn't. Even if he was willing to break his diet, he had already told his friend he was allergic to chocolate.

After their snack, Dean and Gray went into what Gray called the study and began their homework. First, they came up with an outline and narrowed down the topic of their project and determined who would do what. Just as they were finishing up, a young man, not much older than Gray, entered the room.

Dean noticed that Gray seemed to immediately tense up when this guy came in and watched curiously.

"Hey, geek," the newcomer greeted. His tone surprised the young hunter. Dean called Sam a geek all the time, but he said it with affection so Sam never minded. This guy sounded mean.

"Shut up, Thayer," Gray ground out. Dean guessed that this was the brother that Gray had mentioned.

"This another of the nerd squad?" Thayer said rudely as he motioned toward Dean.

"I said shut up," Gray said through clenched teeth, his cheeks turning red with embarrasment. He really hated it when his brother started in on him like this. So what if he was better at academics than sports?

"Gonna make me?" Thayer said to his little brother, almost as if he were daring Gray to have a go at him.

Dean really wanted to and he could he if tried, easily.

"Come on, Dean, let's get out of here," he said tensely.

"What's the matter, nerd boy, can't take a joke," Thayer said, refusing to let the matter drop. It was so easy to get his brother going.

"I can when hear one," Gray said weakly, trying to stand up to his brother and failing miserably. He just stepped around Thayer and Dean followed him out of the room, really working hard to stop himself from decking this guy. On the way to his room, Gray explained to Dean about the academic elite team and how his brother liked to make fun of him because he wasn't on a sports team.

"Itching powder works great," Dean replied. "Or a little Nair in his shampoo."

"I knew there was a reason I liked you," Gray replied with a laugh.

Just as they stepped out into the hallway, Dean heard a voice that sounded exactly like the one Gray had imitated several times.

"Oh Grayson, dear, how wonderful to meet your new little friend. Hello dear, I'm Schyler Remington what's your name and what do your parents do?"

Dean had to keep himself from laughing as Gray imitated his mother behind her back. He debated with himself as to whether or not to introduce himself as Jonathan Jr since it sounded fancier. "Dean Winchester," he had always been Dean. "My dad's a mechanic."

The uncomfortable feeling Dean had had since he had gotten there intensified when Mrs. Remington frowned. "And your mother?" she asked.

Gray watched as his friend hesitated. "My mom, um, my mom was a tea… teacher," Dean trying unsuccessfully to keep the hitch out of his voice. Gray didn't miss the young hunter's use of the past tense and he cursed himself. He had rambled on and on about his mom, not realizing that Dean no longer had his.

"Oh." This was the only thing Mrs. Remington said. "Grayson, dinner will be at 7. Please be prompt." Then she continued on her way.

"Yes, mother," Gray said to his mother's retreating back.

Gray then led Dean to his room and once again, Dean found himself in awe. His room contained his and Sam's beds, a dresser and two night stands. There wasn't room for a desk. He and Sam had to do their homework at the kitchen table.

Gray's room was huge. He had a double bed and a TV and VCR in his room, plus shelves of movies and books. The two spent the next hour getting to know each other a little better. Dean learned that Gray's dad was the CEO of a major finance company and his mother was a socialite who spent her days going to luncheons and shopping trips. His older brother, Thayer, was a freshman at the University of South Dakota, and was planning on going into their father's firm. His sister Arabella was a freshman at Benchley Hall, a private girl's school, and she planned to be just like her mother. Gray confided to Dean that he wanted to be a doctor, but his family expected him to go into business. He said that he loved school and if Dean needed any help with English, he just had to ask.

Dean told him all about Sam, his father and Uncle Bobby. He said he wanted to join the family business. This was sort of true. He did want to be a hunter, but if he wasn't a hunter, he would like to be a mechanic and work for Bobby and the elder hunter was family. Dean also came close to telling Gray about his diabetes, but for some reason, he couldn't get it out.

Gray couldn't help but feel a touch of jealousy at the affectionate way Dean spoke about his younger brother. He couldn't ever remember a time when he and Thayer had gotten along.

"I better get home," Dean said as he glanced at his watch. He actually wasn't in that much of hurry to leave, but it was coming up to the time he usually took his injection and he really didn't want to have to deal with it here.

"I'll give you a ride if you want," Gray offered.

"That's okay. My dad just said to call him and he'd pick me up. He's nearby." This was true. His father had gone to visit Bobby.

"Cool, I'll wait out front with you."

Dean used the phone to call John and his dad simply said he was on his way and that he would be there shortly. The two young men sat on Gray's front step, while Dean waited for his dad.

"I want to say I'm sorry," the young man offered.

"For what?" Dean asked in confusion.

"I didn't know about your mom. I mean, here I am complaining all the time about mine."

Dean shrugged. He really didn't want to talk about his mother. "You didn't know," he said.

"Still, can I ask what happened?"

"She died in a fire when I was four. So when do you want to get together next?" Dean asked quickly changing the subject.

Gray took the hint. "How about tomorrow? My mom's having a society luncheon so we can't have it here. What about your place?"

Dean wondered how Gray would react when he saw his home. It was small and looked as if a good stiff wind would knock it over. You could fit it into the front porch of Gray's place. "Sure," he agreed finally, if Gray saw his home and didn't run screaming for the hills, then Dean thought there might be a chance for their friendship.

It wasn't long before Dean's father showed up. Dean introduced Gray to his father and brother and asked if he could come over the next day. John agreed. The two boys said goodbye and Dean followed his father to the car.

He moved his blazer to his cover his bare wrist. He hadn't had a chance to slip his bracelet on and wanted to cover it until he got home.

"Gray seems nice," his father commented.

"Yeah he is," Dean agreed, glad that his father liked him. If he didn't, Dean wouldn't be allowed to hang out with him.

"Anything special you boys want for supper?"

"Can we order Chinese?" Sam asked.

"Sounds like a plan. Okay with you, Dean?"

"Sure," he said agreeably.

They arrived home a short time afterward. Dean followed his father and brother into the house. He and Sam went to change and John went to place an order for dinner. Since he was due for his insulin shot, Dean decided to change in the bathroom, this would also give him a chance to put his bracelet on without Sam noticing that he had taken it off. He reached into his pocket and he knew he was in deep trouble. It wasn't there.

TBC

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	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Still Don't Own Them

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting this but real life has been extremely hectic. Please enjoy and don't forget to leave me some feedback. Once again thank you to Soar and Sinead-Conlon, any left over mistakes are completely my own.

Dean went to go change out of his uniform and put his bracelet back on. He reached into his pocket and he knew he was in deep trouble. It wasn't there.

Okay Dean, think. When was the last time you saw it? When you took it off this morning, idiot. God, could you be anymore of a screw up?

Quickly, the young hunter checked his other pockets, just in case, and of course, it failed to turn up.

I could tell dad that it fell off and I didn't realize. Great idea, stupid, when was the last time you ever got something past dad? Never, dumbass.

Dean quickly changed out of his uniform and into his favourite casual clothes. He was grateful that it was a little cool that evening, so it wasn't unreasonable that he left his sleeves buttoned, instead of rolling them up.

Okay, I just have to get through tonight and tomorrow. Then after school, I can go to the mall and buy a new one. Good luck with that one. Besides, Gray's coming by. What are you going tell him?

That's when Dean realized that he had a new concern. What if he had lost his bracelet at Gray's place? He really didn't want to have to explain that to him, the fewer people that knew about his condition, the better. There was no logical reason behind that, it was just the way the young hunter felt.

Okay Dean, he said to himself, trying to give himself a pep talk, one step at a time. Follow your normal routine and don't draw attention to yourself.

Which was exactly what he did. Meds, supper, homework, helping Sammy with his math, a phone call to Kelsey, his last insulin dose, a little TV, an evening snack and then bed. As the young hunter rested his head on his pillow that night, he breathed a sigh of relief that he had gotten through the evening without drawing suspicion to himself, or so he thought.

All throughout the evening, John had wondered if there was something up with his eldest. His son had several tells when he was trying to hide something. He was quieter than usual and never made direct eye contact, which was exactly what had happened that evening.

He had wondered if his son had broken his diet when he was at his friend's house. He didn't think that was the case though, because Dean had brought him his diary and there were no unusual readings. Then another thought popped into his head. He would have laid money on the fact that Dean hadn't told Gray he was diabetic, or anyone else for that matter, and he was also willing to bet that Dean had been removing his bracelet as soon as he was out of his father's eyeshot. In fact, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if he marched into the boys' room and demanded to see Dean's wrist, it was going to be bare. Further proof, John remembered, was that Dean's sleeves had been down, and that was something he rarely did.

Instantly, John's temper flared. He had warned Dean time and time again about it, and made a vow that he was going to crazy glue the thing to his son's wrist.

The bracelet had to have been lost, that was definitely one more thing John could add to his list of things he was absolutely sure of. Dean wouldn't have been stupid enough to not wear it in his presence if he had it. John's first instinct was to march directly into the boys' room, wake Dean and demand to see his arm.

Before he could move a foot, however, he took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. He had no proof, not that the bracelet was missing, that much he was certain of, but of the circumstances behind its disappearance. Dean could have deliberately taken it off and accidentally dropped it somewhere, or the clasp could have broken and it fell off and Dean was worried that his father wouldn't believe him. It wasn't unreasonable given the struggles they'd had over the hated object. Either theory could explain Dean's behaviour.

He had falsely accused Dean before and he really didn't want to make that mistake again. He knew how to make Dean confess though, and he felt like a bastard for doing it, but he couldn't think of any other way to go about it. He put aside his feelings and decided to act on his plan tomorrow morning.

The next morning, Dean wandered into the kitchen for breakfast. He accepted the plate John gave him and sat down next to his brother.

"Hey Dean, thanks for your help last night. From what I heard, my math teacher likes pop quizzes and I have a feeling that he's going to spring one on us today," Sam said appreciatively.

"What, you get psychic all of a sudden?" Dean questioned teasingly and then added, "You're welcome."

John served up his own breakfast and sat next to his boys. "What about you, Dean. How are your classes going?"

"Same as always," Dean said with a shrug, not really answering the question. He then employed a Winchester diversionary tactic to get the subject off himself. "How's your history class going, Sammy?"

This, of course, had Sam telling his dad and brother all about the discussion they'd had in class about the American civil war. By the time he had finished, it was just about time to leave. This was when John put his plan into effect.

"Boys, before we head out, I just want to say how proud of both of you I am. Sam, it sounds as if your classes are going great and you're making friends. Dean, I know this had been hard on you, but I am proud of the way you're keeping out of trouble and looking after yourself. Keep it up, boys," John said sincerely as he rose, put his plate in the sink and went to brush his teeth. He really did mean the words, but his main purpose was to make Dean feel guilty and from the look that had flashed across his eldest's face, John knew it had worked perfectly.

Sam beamed at his father's words. Despite their differences, Sam liked to hear the words as much as Dean did. The middle Winchester's reaction, however, was completely different.

He knows. He has to know. How the hell did he figure it out?

The guilt started to kick in because Dean knew that he didn't deserve his father's praise and he knew he'd be making a confession to his father that evening. He just hoped that Kelsey would forgive him for breaking their date because he was going to be grounded for sure.

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"Good morning, Gray," a sweet voice called out to the young man seated at the table.

"Morning Ari," Gray replied as he looked up and saw his sister, Arabella, or Ari, as she liked to be called, enter the room. Considering that he got along with his sister about as well as he got along with his brother, he knew she was after something.

"Who was that guy here with you yesterday? He's cute."

"He goes to my school," Gray said vaguely. He wanted to keep Dean away from his sister, she was just as shallow as their mother.

"You have to introduce us. My girlfriends would be so jealous."

"You wouldn't get along," Gray stated firmly. "Besides, he has a girlfriend." Dean had told him about Kelsey.

"Well I'm sure he'd still like to meet me," Ari insisted.

Gray couldn't believe his sister's arrogance. He knew just how to get her to back off though. "His dad works for my school."

"Ah, why are all the cute ones off limits," Ari pouted in disappointment, Gray's words having the effect he knew it would. Her mother would be very upset if she brought a boy like him home. "Oh, well. I'd better get to school. Mitzi is waiting for me." With that, she left the kitchen.

Gray just shook his head, wondering how he could be related to these people. He would have thought that he had been adopted, but he had seen pictures of his mother pregnant with him. He was, however, completely convinced that he had been switched at birth.

He went back to his room and grabbed his blazer and car keys. As he picked up his backpack, a silver gleam on the rug caught his eye.

He picked it up and examined it more closely. It could have been Cody's, Jamie, Neil's or Dean's, they had all been in his room recently. That's when he noticed the medical alert insignia on the front. That ruled out the first three. It must be Dean's then. Gray wondered what it was for. He remembered Dean mentioning that he was allergic to chocolate and from what he could tell from yesterday's discussion with his new friend, his father was strict, but he doubted that his father would make him wear one for that. Curiosity getting the better of him, Gray flipped it over and read the back.

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Upon arriving at his locker, Dean found his friend waiting for him. Hunter's instincts Dean told that something was up. He had a feeling that his friend had found his missing bracelet.

"Hey, Gray," Dean said greeting him cautiously.

"Hey," Gray said returning the greeting. "You dropped this," Gray added and chucked Dean's medic alert bracelet toward him.

Dean's quick reflexes allowed him to grab it out of the air. He felt a sense of relief that it had turned up. Now he just had to decide whether or not he was going to go ahead with his confession to his father.

Dean looked up at his friend to thank him for finding it and to try and explain but he was surprised to see that Gray actually looked hurt.

Great, Dean. Should have known it wouldn't take you long to blow this. God, is there anything you can do right, he berated himself.

"Uh, thanks" Dean said. His gaze dropped and he stared at the bracelet, he had a very brief debate about whether to put it on, or put it back in his pocket. He figured his secret was out now so he just sighed and strapped the hated object back on his wrist.

"How come you didn't tell me?" Gray asked, his tone matching his expression.

Dean just shrugged. "It didn't seem important," he mumbled.

"So it wasn't important enough for you to lie to me?"

"I didn't lie," Dean protested.

"What about every day after English, or yesterday? Are you allergic to chocolate?"

"No," Dean admitted. "I just... uh, never mind." With that, Dean started off down the hall, his shoulders hunched in misery.

"Dean, wait," Gray called after him. He was surprised that his friend hadn't tried to defend himself.

Dean stopped, surprised that Gray had called after him. He stopped and turned around.

"How come you didn't tell me? Did you think I wasn't going to want to hang out with you because of it?"

"It's happened before," Dean said softly, so softly that Gray had trouble hearing him. "People treat you different when there's something wrong with you."

"There's nothing wrong with you," Gray said with a frown. He didn't like Dean's wording. His friend had a disease and that was all. Why should it matter?

Dean gave a sad smile. "Thanks, but if that was the truth, then why did the kids in my other school treat me like I was a freak. They stuffed my locker full of sugar, refused to touch anything I did, called me names. My brother even lost a friend because she was convinced I was contagious. You'll have to excuse me if making a big announcement about it when I meet someone isn't at the top of my list," he said bitterly.

"Then they're idiots," Gray said firmly. "They just didn't understand."

"That's what Josh said," Dean replied. "He's a family friend. It's easy to tell me that they're jerks, but it's a whole lot different when you're the one that's experiencing it," Dean said sadly.

"I never really thought about it that way," Gray said honestly. "I'm sorry for getting upset. I know it's not anywhere near the same thing, but I sort of know where you're coming from, thinking that you're different. I told you about my snobby parents. They think there's something wrong with me. My brother is my dad's favourite, you know, the perfect athlete who wants to follow in his footsteps. My sister is my mother's favourite. They're two peas in a pod who think that all you need to get by in life are good looks and a rich husband. Then there's me, the family black sheep," Gray said trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

This gave Dean a fresh perspective on his new friend. He may have been rich, but like Dean, his life was far from perfect.

"I wanted to tell you," Dean said honestly. "I almost did yesterday, I just wasn't sure how, and it's still not that easy for me to talk about it, I've only been diagnosed for about three months.

Gray wanted to ask his friend some questions, but the warning bell went off, signalling that they had five minutes to get to homeroom, and Gray could tell that Dean was getting really uncomfortable with the topic.

"We'd better go, I'll see you in Latin," Gray said with a wave over his shoulder as he went in the opposite direction to Dean's own homeroom.

Dean grinned in sudden relief, happy that he hadn't blown the one thing that made this school bearable.

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The school day passed by quickly enough and Gray said he would follow Dean, Sam and his dad to their place so they could work on their project. Dean was a bit nervous about his friend seeing where he lived, but he decided that if he hadn't driven him off by now, a run down house probably wouldn't. Still, he was a little apprehensive.

Gray pulled into the driveway of the small, dilapidated house. It looked about the size of his living room, but upon entering, Gray saw that it was tidy and well kept. Dean told Gray that he would give him the grand tour, but warned him not to blink or he might miss it.

The house consisted of a living room, kitchen, bathroom, John's room and the boys' room. The small storage area at the back was closed and locked. When the boys had opted to share a room, John had taken the back room as his research room and he didn't want Gray seeing it.

Just after they had arrived home, John announced that he was going to Bobby's for the next couple of hours and asked Dean to keep an eye on Sam.

Dean told Gray that he would meet him in the kitchen, he wanted to take his uniform off. Following Sam back into the kitchen, Gray took a seat at the table, watching as Sam went to the cupboard and pulled out a loaf of bread.

"Want a sandwich?" Sam asked.

"Sure," Gray said. He was always hungry when he got in from school.

"Ham and cheese okay?" Sam asked as he got the food out of the fridge.

"Fine," Gray answered.

"I hope you like whole wheat bread. Dad and I try to eat the same things as Dean and it's all we have," Sam replied.

"I'm not fussy," Gray replied as he accepted the sandwich Sam handed him. He was glad that he knew about Dean's diabetes or Sam's remarks wouldn't have made sense to him. Gray watched as Sam went back to the counter and made a couple more sandwiches.

Dean came back into the kitchen and accepted the snack Sam handed him, then Sam left to go change. It wasn't long before he came back and he set up his school books next to his older brother.

They all immediately got to work. A little while later, Sam asked Dean and Gray about their project.

"It's on the American Revolution," Gray replied.

"We're studying the civil war in history. It's my favourite subject," Sam said.

"I like biology," Gray responded, warming to Sam's genuine interest and enthusiasm.

"It's okay. Did you have Charlie for history?"

"Yup. He's a great teacher. I loved the discussions we had," Gray said fondly as he recalled his old history classes.

"Hey Sam, are your marks in that class participation based?" Dean asked his brother.

"Yeah, that and our projects," Sam said.

"I feel sorry for the other kids then. I mean, with you in their class, how are they supposed to get a word in edgewise," Dean teased his brother.

"Shut up, jerk," Sam said and gave Dean a light punch on the shoulder. Sam couldn't help but think that what Dean said was partially true though. He really did have to stop himself from answering sometimes.

"Make me, bitch," Dean said as he gave Sam a playful shove in return.

Gray just shook his head and went back to his work. The two older boys made considerable progress on their project and Sam managed to complete his homework. They were just packing up their books when they heard the familiar rumble of the Impala pulling into the driveway. Glancing at the clock, Dean excused himself to go take his insulin shot.

Sam wanted to ask Gray a few questions about the Academic Elite team, it sounded like his kind of thing, but before he could ask, his father came into the room.

"Hey Sam, homework done?" John asked.

"Yes, sir, " Sam replied.

"I'm going to start dinner. Gray, you're welcome to join us if you want," John offered.

"You should," Sam said. He still needed to talk to Gray. "He may not look it, but dad's a great cook."

"I'd like to, Mr. Winchester, thanks," Gray said politely. He really did want to stay. He liked Dean's family.

"Sam, set the table for five would you?" John said when Sam grabbed four dinner plates.

"Is Bobby coming?" Sam asked.

"No, but when Bobby told me your dad could cook, I just had to check it out for myself," a new voice called from behind him.

Sam turned and a big grin lit up his face at the sight of the unexpected visitor.

"Pastor Jim," Sam exclaimed excitedly as he practically flew into the outstretched arms of the preacher.

"It's good to see you, Samuel," Jim said as he released Sam and ruffled the young man's hair.

"You too," Sam said sincerely. "I didn't know you were in town."

"I didn't know either until this morning. I finished my job a little early and decided to head this way. I ran into your father at Bobby's."

"Are you here for awhile?" Sam asked. Pastor Jim was Sam's Bobby. He could talk to the preacher about anything.

"No, unfortunately not. I have to head out again tomorrow, I need to be back in Blue Earth soon."

"Pastor Jim," Dean said as he came into the room and was shocked to see the preacher standing there. Like Sam, he was glad to see him. He was a little embarrassed to be hugged in front of his friend, but he still accepted it easily as well. He liked Pastor Jim.

"How are you doing, m'boy?" Jim asked Dean when he released him.

"Fine," was Dean's standard reply.

"Good to hear, now who's this young man?" the pastor asked.

"Grayson Remington, sir. I'm a friend of Dean's," Gray said as he introduced himself. He felt the need to be formal.

It pleased Pastor Jim no end to hear that Dean had a friend. Lord knew the boy needed more friends his own age. "Sir was my father, everyone calls me Pastor Jim and you will do the same."

"Yes, sir, I… ah…, I mean yes Pastor Jim," Gray stammered.

"Pastor Jim," Sam said as he grabbed the man's hand. "You have to come see my uniform and guess what, I have a teacher that lets us call him by his first name..." They could still hear Sam's voice as he trailed off down the hall, Pastor Jim pulled behind him.

"It was nice seeing you, come again soon," Dean called after them mockingly as he and Gray went into the living room. He knew that Sam was hard to stop once he got on a roll. It would be dinner time before they saw either one again.

John finished cooking and called everyone to dinner. Gray really enjoyed the home cooked meal. He found Dean and Sam's father a little stern, but he could see why both Dean and his brother were fond of the pastor.

"So, Grayson, you're in Dean's class?"

"Yeah, I mean yes," Gray said. "We have three classes together. English, history and Latin."

Jim raised an eyebrow and glanced toward Dean. "Don't you already speak Latin?"

"That's what I said," Sam pointed out. "I'm taking French."

Dean just shrugged. "Just making sure I don't forget anything," Dean tried to explain as he squirmed a little under the pastor's stare, much to the amusement of Gray, Sam, and John. Jim just shook his head.

"How's English going?" Jim asked Dean. He was well aware of the young hunter's struggle with the subject.

"About as well as can be expected," Dean said, not wanting to admit that he was hopelessly lost. "Poetry makes no sense."

"What about song lyrics?" John asked.

"What about them?" Dean asked in a confused tone.

"Aren't they just forms of poetry put to music?" John asked and had to work to hold a back a grin at the insulted expression on Dean's face.

"Bite your tongue, heathen," Dean stated firmly.

"I don't know, Dean," Pastor Jim said. "I think your father's right. Besides, how would you woo your girlfriend without poetry?"

"I swear, the whole world's against me," Dean said in a mocked hurt tone.

Gray just grinned, his thoughts going back over his whole experience with the Winchester family. His brother would never make a snack for him and Gray could just imagine himself trying to sit at the table with Thayer if he had a friend over. His brother would have physically hauled him from the room if he called his brother a bitch, especially in front of company, there would have been no friendly little love tap, Thayer would have hauled off and decked him.

Then there was the fact that the Winchesters had company. It was a spur of the moment dinner invitation. His parents wouldn't have allowed it without at least two weeks planning time, and there would have been no way he'd have been allowed to have a friend there. Hell, there would be no way he would be allowed to be there. The Remington kids were expected to make themselves scares if there was a dinner party.

If he'd called his father a heathen, even jokingly, he would have found himself on the first plane to military school, as his father had said that he wouldn't tolerate discipline problems from his kids.

Gray had an open invitation to his friends' home anytime, but like at his own place, things were so much more formal, there was no laughing and teasing and carrying on. Dean's place was so much more relaxed and Gray couldn't remember when he'd last had so much fun.

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That night, after Gray had gone home, Dean went back and forth with himself. Should he come clean or shouldn't he? He decided to get some expert advice and went to the pastor and confessed the whole story, asking him what he should do.

"I can't tell you what to do, Dean. I can only advise you to do what you feel is right."

"Why is it that when you actually want an adult to tell you want to do, they tell you they can't. Yet when you don't want them to, they're all over it?" Dean asked.

"It's just the way things are. I'll come with you, if you want," Pastor Jim offered. He knew what Dean was going to do, even before he asked him.

"Yeah," Dean said. He had known all along that he was going to confess. "If you're here, you can give me last rites. I'll be right back. I want to say goodbye to Sam."

Before, Jim could say anything else, Dean walked down the hall to his room. He was back a couple of minutes later.

The kindly pastor laid his hand on Dean's shoulder. "It won't be as bad as you think."

"No, it'll be worse," Dean said morosely.

Dean found his father in the kitchen, going over his journal.

"Dad, can I talk to you for a moment?" Dean asked.

"What's up, kiddo, you feeling okay?" 

"Fine," Dean replied. "I just wanted to tell you... um, that is I..."

"Just spit it out, son," John encouraged.

"I've been taking my bracelet off at school. I um, I lost it yesterday and Gray found it and gave it back to me," he confessed.

John pointed to the chair at the kitchen table.

"Sit," he ordered firmly and Dean complied instantly. Pastor Jim took a seat next to the young hunter, knowing he needed the moral support.

"First off, I want to say that I am disappointed that you lied to me, Jonathan Dean. I clearly told you that you were to leave it on."

Dean deflated at his father's words. Pastor Jim applied his hand to Dean's shoulder in silent comfort.

"I also want to say that I'm proud of you for confessing. You got it back and I wouldn't have ever known about it."

That surprised the young hunter and it showed.

"Dean, contrary to what you might think, I'm not making you wear it to torture you. It's for your own good. I mean, what if we were in an accident? It's something anyone who treats you would have to know, to make sure they didn't harm you further, or give you the wrong medication."

"I know that, but it makes me stand out and I hate that," Dean admitted dejectedly, his eyes downcast.

"Dean, why are so ashamed about having diabetes?" John asked suddenly.

"I'm not," Dean protested immediately.

"It's not a sign of weakness, son," Pastor Jim said joining the conversation.

"It is," Dean said insistently.

"Dean, it's a disease, and one you couldn't prevent or predict," John said gently. "You've been looking after yourself. Your readings are in acceptable ranges and I am really proud of the way you've being handling all this.

Dean gave his dad a small smile. He liked hearing those words and it was extremely rare that he got them twice in one day.

"Listen to your father, Dean," Jim advised. "It's only a weakness if you let it become one by not taking care of yourself. Either you're going to control it, or it's going to control you."

"It's easy to say that when you're not the one that has to live with it. I'm the one that everyone looks at like there's something wrong with me," Dean said stubbornly.

"Who does that, Dean? Does Sam, your father, Bobby, me? What about your friend, Gray?"

"Kids from my old school, and I know that Cody and Jamie will, and Todd is still uncomfortable around me," Dean admitted.

"Are these people important to you?"

"No," Dean said instantly.

"Dean, who is important to you? Whose opinion matters to you the most?"

Dean thought for a moment. "Sammy, Dad, Bobby, you, Josh, Caleb, Jefferson, Gray and Kelsey."

Jim could see Dean starting to squirm and he knew he was close to losing him, so he decided to go about this in a different way.

"Dean, does your dad still make you train and do chores?"

"Yes."

"Does Sammy still follow you everywhere, wanting to do whatever you're doing?" Jim questioned.

"Yes."

"Does Bobby still let you work in his scrap yard?"

"Yes."

"Joshua still want you to go on a hunt with him next time he goes up against a werewolf?"

"Yes."

"Do you see where I'm going with this, Dean?"

"Not really," Dean replied as he scratched his head in confusion.

John wanted to growl in frustration. The boy was so stubborn.

"Dean, I want to ask you one more question and please answer honestly, okay?"

"Sure," Dean agreed reluctantly, not really wanting to. He just wanted his punishment so that he could escape back to his room.

"How did Gray and Kelsey react when they found out?"

Dean went quiet for awhile, trying to gather his thoughts. Jim and John were both wondering if he was going to answer and John was about to order him to when Dean finally sighed and spoke.

"Kelsey told me I was an idiot for not telling her and Gray was upset that I hadn't told him."

"So they both reacted to the fact that you didn't tell them about your disease, not to the disease itself. Is that right?"

"That's two questions," Dean said and immediately wished he hadn't when his father glared at him. He gave another sigh and answered. "I guess so."

"Let's review," Jim said. "Your family treats you the same way they did before you were diagnosed, and your friends don't care. So Dean, could you explain how exactly people are treating you differently. If it's not someone you care about, why should you care how they react to your disease?"

"They can make my life miserable, some have already tried," Dean said sadly.

"Hey, buddy," John said gently. "Kids can be cruel, I won't deny that, but just remember, if you see your diabetes as a weakness, others will too, making you more of a target. Remember that night before Joshua got to our place, the night you wet the bed," John said unthinkingly.

Dean cried out, mortified that his father had just mentioned that in front of the pastor, and his cheeks flushed a deep red. 

"Sorry, Dean," John apologized. He hadn't meant to say that. "Remember when I told you that I wet the bed in front of a whole barracks of other marines. Yes, they teased me, some made fun of me, but I laughed it off as a big joke, and when the others saw it wasn't getting to me, they forgot all about it. Think you can do that?"

"I can try," Dean said with a sincerity he did not feel.

"That's my man," John said as he reached over and ruffled Dean's hair.

"Dean, don't worry," Pastor Jim said reassuringly. "I didn't hear a thing."

"Thanks, Pastor Jim," Dean said gratefully.

Pastor Jim and John could see their words were starting to have an effect on the young hunter. Sam, who had been eavesdropping in the hallway, stepped into the kitchen. He knew just how to give his brother the pick-me-up he needed. He was going to pretend he had never heard his dad's comment either.

"Dad and Pastor Jim are right, Dean. Plus, I have never stopped thinking you were the best big brother in the world."

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean said softly. He really needed to hear that.

"Now Dean, I know you're still going to hate wearing it, but your bracelet stays on, and you know I have to punish you, right?"

Dean nodded.

"You lied, disobeyed a direct order and showed bad judgement, but you did confess and that showed good judgement, so I'll take off three days. 6 days, no Impala, and you're grounded all day Sunday, except for training."

"You mean I'm not grounded tomorrow?" Dean asked.

"No, it wouldn't be fair to Kelsey."

"Thanks, dad," Dean said sincerely.

"It's getting late, boys, time for bed," John said to his sons as he pulled them into a rough hug before dispatching them off to their room.

When the boys were out of the room, John turned to his friend.

"Thanks, Jim," John said gratefully.

"It's no problem, Jonathan. It's what family does."

"I didn't know how to get through to him," John said. "He's so stubborn, just like his mother."

"I'm not sure that's where he gets it from," Jim said pointedly. "As for Dean, I find it works best if you just make him look at what's right in front of him."

"This has been so hard on him."

"On all of you, I suspect, but you're strong and you'll all get through it," Jim said confidently. Then he changed the subject. "Now, tell me about Dean's lady friend. From what I understand, she's the first girl Dean's dated for more than a week."

"She's a nice girl and a good influence on Dean," John said with a smile.

"Have you had the talk with him yet?" Pastor Jim inquired. He may be a preacher, but he wasn't blind to the ways of the world.

"Oh Lord, not you too!"

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On Monday afternoon in the cafeteria, Dean didn't wait for Gray to wave him over, he just went and joined his friend. He still wasn't sure what to make of Neil and Ben, but he decided to just follow Bobby's advice and be himself. Besides, Gray liked him and that's all Dean really cared about.

Jamie watched as Dean popped the top on his diet soda and took a drink. He was trying to gather up as much information as he could to help plan his and Cody's proper welcome. He noticed that diet soda was all Dean drank and he wondered if there was something there.

"Hey Dean, are you on a diet or something?" Jamie asked.

As much as he tried to stop it, that self-conscious feeling washed over him. "No," he mumbled as he took a bite of his chicken sandwich.

"How come you always eat chick food then?" Cody said snidely as he indicated Dean's lunch of soup and a sandwich.

Dean was extremely tempted to say he was an athlete in training and he liked to eat healthy, but he was tired of the lies, he had no more plans to remove his bracelet and since Cody was in his gym class, he would see it anyway. So for the first time since he was diagnosed, Dean took a deep breath and admitted the truth to someone.

"I have diabetes, I have to watch what I eat and drink," he mumbled.

"Since when?" Neil asked in surprise.

Dean found that Neil reminded him of his dad's friend, Jefferson, someone who always seemed to say the wrong thing at the wrong time.

"A little over three months."

"You take needles?" Ben asked.

Dean shrugged. "Fact of life," he replied.

"How many?" Neil wanted to know.

"Four and no, they don't hurt," Dean said anticipating the next question. He could see the others really gearing up for a Q&A session and was getting uncomfortable. He still didn't really like talking about it.

Gray had to admire his friend. He knew that it hadn't been easy for him to admit that, so he decided to help him out.

"Cody, Jamie, you guys ready for the math test tomorrow?" Gray asked quickly.

"About as well as I can be," Cody said with a touch of nervousness in his voice. Mr. Jeter was the only teacher that didn't give athletes a break and Cody really hated the subject.

"Mr. Jeter has it in for me," Jamie remarked, he didn't fair much better in the subject either.

"Ben, you trying out for any school teams?" Gray asked before Jamie could go off on a tangent.

"I'm thinking about basketball, it's my favourite sport," Ben said.

"Tryouts are this week," Gray commented helpfully.

"What about you, Dean?" Neil asked.

"I'm not sure. Baseball's my favourite sport, but that's not until spring," he said non-commitally. He didn't think his father would let him try out for a sports team. Sammy had wanted to join the soccer team at their old school, but their father had said no.

"You any good at soccer?" Neil asked.

"I haven't really played," Dean admitted.

"Too bad because our soccer team really sucks," Neil said. He was a striker on the team.

"Yup," Gray confirmed. "The schools around here are big on football, basketball, soccer and baseball. The only sport our school's not competitive in is soccer, and it pisses Dr. Dick off to no end 'cause you just know he's gettin' heat from the alumni."

"I'm surprised they haven't brought a ringer in yet," Jamie said.

"That's what they do when one of our teams suck, they create a special scholarship for the guy," Cody explained to Ben.

"They did try," Neil said. "My dad's on the board this year and they tried to recruit some guy who goes to Watertown High, his name's Todd Wilkins, but he turned them down. Not that I blame him. It blows playing for a team that loses every game. So, I guarantee you that when the soccer unit comes up in gym, they are going to be watching us very closely."

Dean almost choked when Neil mentioned Miranda's boyfriend. He was surprised that Todd hadn't mentioned that he almost had a chance to attend here. He wondered if the soccer team was the only reason for Todd's decision. Dean knew Todd's feeling on this place.

"Wouldn't you have loved to have been a fly on the wall when Dr. Dick found out this guy turned him down?" Cody asked with a grin.

"I bet he turned purple and gave Todd his speech," Gray replied with a chuckle and imitated the headmaster and quoted his history of the school and privilege to attend speech word for word, which had the others, even Dean, in hysterics. "I better go. I have to stop by the library before my next class," Gray said getting up after they had all recovered from their laughter.

"See ya," the others said.

Dean quickly finished off his lunch and said his goodbyes. He still felt a little uncomfortable around Gray's other friends when Gray wasn't there.

Neil saw another of his friends that he wanted to say hi to, so that left Cody, Jamie, and Ben sitting at the table.

"Hey guys, we're going to have to re-think our idea for Dean's proper welcome," Jamie said.

"Why's that? It's perfect," Cody said.

Ben had decided to team up with Cody and Jamie. They had said it was all in good fun and invited him in. They had decided to make Dean the school mascot. It wasn't an original plan, it had actually been done by Gray's brother before. It had been two years ago, but everyone still talked about it and imagination wasn't Jamie or Cody's strong point, so they decided to repeat it.

The sports teams were the Westcott Eagles and the games were usually followed by an after party when they won. At one of these parties, Thayer and his friends had slipped alcohol into somebody's drink and the guy had passed out. Thayer and his buddies had then taken and tied him to the statue in front the school and stuck feathers all over him. The guy had been the laughing stock of the school for weeks.

"Dean's diabetic," Jamie explained.

"So," said Cody and Ben.

"My grandmother's diabetic..."

"He has some old lady disease?" Cody said ignorantly.

"No idiot, anyone can get it. It's just that I've seen what happens to my grandmother if she doesn't take her insulin or eat right. We can't leave Dean tied up all night with no guarantee of when someone's going to find him."

"It's only a few hours," Ben said. "Can it really be that bad?"

"Yes," Jamie said. He and his grandmother were close. "There was this one time when my uncle was getting married. On the day of the wedding, everything was going wrong and the stress affected her so badly that she passed out. If we leave Dean tied up, it could happen to him. Plus, he'd be outside all night and he might get sick. I want to humiliate the guy, not put him in the hospital."

"Then what can we do?" Cody asked helplessly. He couldn't think of anything else.

"I've got an idea," Ben piped up and told the others his idea. "Although, we're going to have to wait a few months if we want it to work," he finished up.

"Yeah, if we invite him to a party now, he's going to know something's up," Jamie agreed.

"I think the perfect time to do it will be during the party Aaron Bochner throws every year, just before the end of the Christmas holiday. It'll give us a chance to plan, but it's far enough away so we don't raise his suspicions."

"Great idea," Ben agreed.

The three decided to get together to for their first planning session after school.

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The first month passed along quickly and John couldn't believe how well his boys had adapted to the school. John was really enjoying his job as well, becoming good friends with his boss.

Sam and he actually got along for the most part. Dean kept himself out of trouble at school, only receiving one detention, and that was John's fault. He had been running late and by the time they arrived at the school, Dean had walked Sam to his building, and dropped his injection kit at the nurse's station, he had been late for homeroom. The most important thing was that his blood sugar was remaining under control.

John couldn't believe how well things were going and said as much to both Bobby and Pastor Jim. Things finally seemed to be looking up for his family.

A/N: Cody, Jamie, and Ben's idea is not original. I borrowed it from Smallville.

Please read and review.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

Thanks to Soar for the beta and Sinead-Conlan for checking my medical facts. Any left over mistakes are completely my own. Please read and review

Bobby Singer leant over the kitchen sink, finishing off the last of the supper dishes. From where he was standing, he had a clear view of the back yard, where he could see Dean and Sam playing with Nixon and Rumsfeld.

The two rottweilers were supposed to be guard dogs to keep people out of his salvage yard. He'd had a problem in the past with kids and adults, alike, trying to steal things from him, but he was also afraid of kids getting hurt. The unfortunate thing was that Nixon and Rumsfeld were two of the friendliest dogs on the planet and if anyone did break in, they would be in serious danger of being licked to death.

It had been two months since the boys had started school and Bobby couldn't believe the change that had come over all three Winchesters.

Sam and John hardly fought anymore and Sam couldn't stop talking about his school and classes. He'd made several friends and was pulling his usual straight As. He was so much happier than that sullen boy he'd been when they had first arrived at Bobby's at the beginning of summer.

John seemed to have relaxed a bit as well. He had made friends with his co-workers, and even went out after work with them sometimes. He seemed to be less strict with the boys, letting Dean take Kelsey out on a school night, and even allowing Sam to spend the night at his friend's place once. He had stayed awake, pacing the floor all night, though. Bobby knew that because John had called him four times to see if he had heard about anything unusual going on that night. The only thing that remained a hard and fast rule though, was that if Dean was going out with Gray, he had to be home by midnight.

Speaking of Dean, Bobby couldn't believe the change that had came over the young hunter. Ever since his talk with Pastor Jim, he seemed to have fully come to terms with his diabetes and he became determined that he wasn't going to let it get the better of him. He wasn't a social butterfly like Sam, but he had one good friend and it did Bobby good to see it. Gray had been over at the Winchesters' several times and had even accompanied them to their Sunday visit to Bobby's a few times. Bobby really liked the young man, he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders.

Bobby couldn't have been happier for his family.

"Hey Bobby," John said entering the kitchen with his car keys in hand.

"You guys getting ready to take off?" Bobby questioned.

"Yeah," John confirmed. "Dean's got an English test tomorrow and I promised I'd help him study for it."

"How's he getting along?"

"Well, his mark isn't spectacular, but he's passing. I can see that he's really trying though, I mean, his marks are up in every other subject and he's still keeping out of trouble."

"Told ya," Bobby said. He couldn't resist. "Wouldn't you just love to see that headmaster's face?"

"Yes, but unfortunately, I bet the only thing he'd mention would be Dean's English marks," John said.

Bobby really wanted to give the man a piece of his mind. He knew John was speaking the truth.

John could see the boys and he decided it was best to call them in. Winters in South Dakota were cold and John didn't want Dean out for too long because his diabetes caused him to be more susceptible to colds and flus. He made a mental note to call Dean's doctor and have him scheduled for a flu shot.

After calling the boys, John handed Dean the keys and told him to go start the car, he had something he needed to ask his friend.

"Bobby, I need a favor," John said.

"What's that?"

"Dean's 17th is coming up," John said. "There's something special I want to do for him and I'll need your help." He told Bobby all about his plan.

"He's going to love it, Johnny," said Bobby approvingly. "I'll make sure it happens."

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"Winchester, I need to see you for a moment please," Sam's homeroom teacher called to him as he prepared to exit the room and head to his first class.

"Yes, sir," Sam said politely as he made his way over to the teacher's desk.

"I need you to go to the high school building after your last class and go see a teacher by the name of Eric Jeter," he instructed.

"I will sir, thank you," Sam said as he tried to contain his excitement.

At first, Sam felt anxious when his teacher told him to go to the high school. He thought for a moment that something was wrong with Dean, but it faded after he heard the words 'after your last class'. If it was something serious, he would have been told to report immediately. He knew what this was about and he couldn't have been happier.

He'd heard about the academic elite team and he'd decided to try out. He'd found out from one of his friends that not just anybody could. There were two ways that you could go about it. The first was seeing your guidance counsellor and letting him know that you were interested. Then, you had to take a form and get two recommendations from teachers or the teachers took it upon themselves to submit a name to Eric Jeter, the faculty advisor, for the team. If you received two teacher recommendations, then you were asked to go see Eric Jeter and he asked you if you were interested in trying out.

Sam thought about the letter he'd had tucked in his knapsack. He'd planned to ask his history and English teachers if they would sign the form for him. To get an invite was even better. Sam couldn't wait until after school and for the first time since he'd started at the Westcott Preparatory Academy, he found the day dragging.

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"Okay class, any questions?" Eric Jeter said, putting down his chalk after finishing the day's lecture. "No, alright then, for homework, I want you to finish the problems at the end of the chapter, and before you go, I want to hand back your tests."

The class gave a low groan. Eric pretended not to hear it as he picked up the papers and started to hand them back. He couldn't help but send his gaze over to the person in the last row in the corner. His new student was something of an enigma. From the way Dr. Webber had spoken of him, he sounded like a loud-mouth trouble maker, but Dean was the complete opposite. He hardly said a word and spent most of the class staring out the window. Eric had called on him several times and each time, Dean managed to come up with the right answer. He was seriously starting to think the reason Dean didn't pay attention was that he was bored.

"Good job, Mr. Winchester," Eric said sincerely as he handed the young man back his test.

"Thank you, sir," Dean replied and couldn't stop the grin that lit up his face when he gazed at the 100 marked at the top.

"Study hard, class, we'll have our next test this Friday."

Again the class groaned. "Hey everyone, cheer up. A test on Friday means no math homework over the weekend," he said with a grin.

At that, the class cheered and it wasn't long after that the bell rang. Dean put his test in his notebook, gathered up the rest of his things and prepared to head out the door to Latin.

"Mr. Winchester, a moment please," Eric called out to the young hunter.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Dean asked and came back to the desk, wondering what this could possibly be about. He'd aced his test.

"Yes. I know that you're new and I was wondering if you'd heard about our academic elite team," Mr. Jeter inquired.

"Yeah, my friend's on it," Dean said, a touch of confusion entering his voice.

"I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Welsh gave me your name," Eric said mentioning Dean's physics teacher. "I was wondering if you were interested in coming and trying out in the math category this Friday after school."

"Me?" Dean said in surprise and disbelief. Academics were not his thing. He was wondering what other teacher could possibly have recommended him, he knew you needed two. It definitely wasn't his English teacher, he was barely passing that class. His social studies teacher disliked him, and the teachers from your elective or gym didn't count. That left his Latin, history and math teachers.

"Yes," the teacher confirmed.

"I don't know," Dean said. He was trying to come up with some way of letting Mr. Jeter down. He was curious about who had recommended him, but he couldn't think of anything he wanted to do less and he knew how his father felt about them trying out for teams.

"If you're worried about your diabetes, don't be. We've had diabetics on the team before. We would just need a note from your doctor clearing you to travel and a list of the medications you're on so we can make sure your needs are met, so think about it," Eric offered. "Here's a permission slip. If you decide to try out, just make sure to have one of your parents sign it and return it to me by Thursday at the very latest."

"I will, sir, and thank you," Dean said as he accepted the paper and dismissed the idea instantly. His diabetes had never even crossed his mind as a consideration, he just couldn't picture himself playing jeopardy for points, although he really wanted to know one thing. He stopped at the door and turned back to his teacher. "Mr. Jeter, can I ask you who else gave you my name?"

"I did. You're one of my top students, Dean. We were a little weak in the math category last year, so I think you'll make a great addition."

"Thank you, sir," Dean said as his cheeks flushed gently at not only the compliment but also over the fact that Mr. Jeter called him by his name and used Dean and not Jonathan. Mr. Jeter rarely ever addressed a student by name, it was always Mr. and your surname. The academic elite team wasn't his thing, but it was still nice to hear a compliment. "I'd better get going, I don't want to be late for my next class," Dean said eventually.

After school that day, Sam Winchester walked down the halls of the high school. He kept his eyes peeled for his big brother, hoping to catch him. Randy had said he'd wait and let Dean know where his brother was if he showed up looking for him.

"Hey, Sam," he heard a familiar voice call from behind him. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Dean. I got a message from my homeroom teacher that Mr. Jeter wanted to see me."

"Congrats, Sam," Dean said sincerely. There was only one reason his math teacher would want to see his brother. Sam had only mentioned it 100 times and that was since this morning.

"Do you think dad will let me try out?" Sam said doubtfully.

"I don't know," Dean admitted truthfully. "We'll work on him though and if that doesn't work, we'll get Bobby involved."

"Thanks, Dean," Sam said as a big grin lit up his face. He went through the door that Dean pointed out. He was back 10 minutes later with an even bigger grin on his face.

"Come on, Dean, let's get home. I can't wait to tell Dad."

Just like he'd suspected, Mr Jeter had invited him to the tryouts. He'd found out that out of his eligible subjects, 5 of his 6 teachers had submitted his name. The only one that didn't was his maths teacher. Sam knew that was fair. He was pulling an A, but that was with Dean's help. He really had to pay attention to make sure he caught on.

When Sam had gone to talk to his math teacher about the tryouts, Dean knew for sure that he wasn't going to try out. He knew that he got most of his dad's attention these days and he felt that this was something his little brother needed for himself. He even decided to wait until tomorrow to tell his dad about his math test, so he wouldn't take any of the spot light away from his brother. He was really proud of his little brother and had offered to help him out after school on his math homework, when Sam expressed concerns that he hoped his weakness in that area didn't stop him from making team.

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That night at dinner, John knew something was up with his boys, they had been behaving like angels. John had worked late and when he got home, his eldest had supper on the table, and a well balanced one, just like his diet called for. There were even green things, and he knew that Dean hated green things. He had even offered up that his blood sugar was still stable without being asked and the boys hadn't even been watching TV. They'd been sitting at the kitchen table, with Dean going over something with Sam in his math book.

Sam inquired as to how his father's day was and informed him that both he and Dean had done their homework. Dean asked his dad if he wanted to invite Bobby for dinner.

"Bobby had to leave town, but he'll be back on Monday," John said as he watched his boys exchange a look. "Spill, now," John ordered as he sat down and helped himself to the pork chops Dean had prepared. His son wasn't a half bad cook.

"Guess what, dad, almost all my teachers recommended me for the academic elite team. Tryouts are this Friday. I can go, right?" Sam said in a rush.

"Slow down and tell me again. What is academic elite exactly?"

"It's a competition, kind of like baseball, but we answer questions instead. We have meets and everything," Sam gushed hopefully.

"It's a really big deal to be invited, dad," Dean explained. "You need at least two teachers to give you the okay, either by asking them to sign a form, or even better, they go to the team leader and give your name. Sammy got 5 recs, dad," Dean said and couldn't keep the pride out of his voice.

"That's great, Sam," John also said proudly. "I need more info though, kiddo. Where and when are tryouts and if you make the team, where and when does it meet, and what about the competitions?"

"Tryouts are Friday after school," Sam said.

"Don't worry about us getting home, dad. I'll wait for Sammy, and Gray's on the team so he's going to be there and he said he'd give us a lift," Dean explained.

"Your support group meets that night, Dean, what time are tryouts over?" John questioned.

A frown started to mar Sam's features. Tryouts started at 4 and went on for a good two hours, Dean's support group started at 7. That would be a tight squeeze between the end of tryouts and dinner. He really hoped his father didn't use Dean's diabetes as a way to say no, that would have been so unfair. "Dean's not going to tryouts, dad," Sam stated firmly.

"Dad, I can skip it for one night. I haven't missed one yet since I started. It's not like it's a mandatory thing," Dean said reasonably.

"What about practices?"

"They're Tuesday's and Thursday's after school, and go until about 5:30," Sam said.

"You work late on Tuesday's, dad," Dean pointed out.

"What about Thursday's? Do you want to hang around the school for an extra hour and a half waiting for your brother?"

"I'll go back and pick him up on Thursday's," Dean offered.

"What about competitions?"

This was the biggest point of contention the boys had. They knew how their father would react when he was informed that some of the competitions required them to go out of town, and John's reaction was exactly what they had predicted.

"No way!!!" he said firmly.

"But dad..." Sam instantly protested. "You let me spend the night at Conner's house."

"That's different, Sam, you were in town. What if something happens and I can't get to you?" John said worriedly.

"Nothing's going to happen. I'll take salt and holy water, okay? Please dad, this is something nor…"

Dean knew that Sam was about to say normal people. Something their father really hated. If Sam did say it, there was going to be a major fight between the two and Dean didn't want to see it. There was an easy solution to this. He had been invited to tryouts and the two teams travelled together. Their father would have an entirely different attitude if he knew that Dean was there to keep an eye on Sam. If his father tried to factor in his diabetes, well he'd just throw Pastor Jim's words back at his father. Plus, he could tell his father that the school would make sure all his needs were met. He_**really, really, **_did _**not **_want to do this. He would much rather be out with Kelsey on weekends, not stuck answering questions at some stupid competition. Still, it was Sammy and he damn well better appreciate what he was about to do.

"Dad," Dean said cutting his brother off. "I promise to look out for Sam."

"How can you if you're not there?" John questioned.

"I actually got invited to try out too," Dean mumbled.

"You!!" both Sam and John said in surprise.

Dean felt a touch of anger come over him at his dad and Sam's response. He may not have been the sharpest tool in the shed, but he wasn't stupid. "Yeah," he said, trying to keep his tone neutral. "Mr. Jeter asked me. I got the rec from him and my physics teacher."

"What about your..."

"Don't say it, dad," Dean snapped. "Don't you dare, not after all the lectures you've given me about not letting it control me."

"Do not take that tone with me, Jonathan Dean," John ordered. "It's a valid concern."

"Yeah well, Mr. Jeter told me that if I wanted to try out and made the team, they would make sure it was looked after. Come on, dad, at least let us try out, there's no harm in that."

John figured there was no harm in letting the boys try out. It was going to be a long shot for his eldest to make it, and his youngest wasn't doing it unless Dean was there to keep on eye on him. "Okay," John conceded. "You can both try out and then we'll talk."

Dean knew he was going to have to make the team. He had no doubt his brother would, but he knew for a fact that his father wasn't going to let Sam join if he wasn't there to watch him. God, he hoped he didn't screw this up.

"Weren't you supposed to get you math test back?" John asked his eldest.

"Yeah," Dean said. "I got a 100," he added when he father gave him a look.

"Hey, dad," Sam said. "Charlie said my comments on trench warfare were well crafted and thought provoking."

"That's good, Sammy," John said vaguely and turned back to Dean. "How'd your English test go?"

Dean shrugged. "It went," was all he would say, leaving John with the impression that it hadn't gone all that well.

"You going to have to answer English questions at these tryouts?" John asked.

"No, you can try out for different things. They have a general category where you could get anything and specific categories for math, history, science, English and languages. I'm trying out for math."

"I have to say I'm surprised, Dean, this is something I can't picture you doing."

"I wanted to try something different," Dean said. This wasn't entirely untrue. His trying out was a different way to try and get his father to let Sam on the team.

"Mr. Jeter said for me to try out for the general category, it's the hardest team to make," Sam said quietly.

"Did you say something, Sam?" John asked, tuning his attention to his youngest son with a frown.

"No, nothing."

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After dinner, Dean wandered off to go call Kelsey and John went to watch TV. It was Sam's night to do the dishes and he was surprised that he hadn't managed to break any of them, the way he was slamming them around. He was fuming. He couldn't believe his brother. Dean hated this kind of stuff. Could he not stand that the fact that their father had been focused on him for once? Why couldn't he let him have this one thing for himself? Even trying out for something at school turned into something about Dean.

He finished the dishes and went to his room to read a book. He didn't want to be near his father or brother. A short time later, Dean came into the room to get ready for bed.

"How could you?" Sam accused immediately.

Dean was taken aback by the hostility in his voice. "What?" he asked in confusion.

"You couldn't let me have one thing to myself could you? Just this one thing and once again, it turns to be out to be all about you."

"It wasn't like that, Sam..."

"How come you didn't say anything this afternoon about getting invited to tryouts," Sam snapped.

"I didn't know if I was going to try out," Dean said trying to explain himself.

"So you just decided to make the big announcement at dinner when dad was focused on me. What, you couldn't stand not being the center of attention for once?"

"It's not like that," Dean tried again. He had to make Sam understand. The only reason he was trying out was because it was the only way their dad would let Sam go, and Dean knew just how much this meant to his brother.

"Sure, it wasn't," Sam said angrily.

Dean had to make his brother understand. "Sammy..." he said.

"_**I told you,**__**it's Sam," **_the youngest Winchester said firmly as he rolled onto his side facing the wall and refused to say another word.

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The last couple of days had not gone well. The day after Sam's announcement, John had overslept and they were all running late. Dean rushed through his breakfast and as a result, hadn't eaten enough, and he was really shaky by the time he'd gotten to school. He dropped off his injection kit and went back 5 minutes later to check his blood sugar. The nurse had been surprised to see him and read his reading over his shoulder. When she saw how low it was, she made him sit and drink a soda, and then re-checked him. As a result, Dean was 20 minutes late for social studies. He had a pass from the nurse to explain why he was late, but he received further proof that his teacher didn't like him when Mr. Wright refused to let him explain, he just gave Dean a detention.

This, of course, led to John getting upset that Dean had gotten into trouble. Dean's blood sugar remained out of whack for the rest of the day and he was cranky. Sam was still angry and accused Dean again of trying to usurp their father's attention.

So it was definitely an understatement that Dean was not a happy camper when Friday rolled around. The stress of the last couple of days were playing havoc with his system, he was struggling to get his blood sugar back under control and he just wasn't feeling well, still he had to suck it up and make sure he made the team. Sammy was counting on him.

The tryouts were just like Dean had thought they would be. He had to sit at the table with a buzzer and answer questions. He got most of them of them right and most times, had been the first to buzz in. Then he'd had to do a written test. He got a chance to watch the end of Sam's tryout and couldn't help the pride that filled him as he watched Sam get question after question right. He had struggled on a couple of math ones, but he did great overall and Dean knew without a doubt that he'd make the team.

Sam was really nervous when he went to school on Monday. He met the other tryout candidates in the gym and he was all pins and needles waiting for his name to be called.

The junior and senior high school each had a team. They were divided into general and specific categories. The general category had four members and two alternates. There had to be at least one grade seven, two eighth graders and three ninth graders, but it was extremely rare for a seventh grader to make the general team as a starter. Then there were category specific teams that consisted of groups of three, one from each grade. Each person could compete on a maximum of two, Sam's chances of making the team was low.

"Now everyone, I know you're waiting to hear about the teams. This year, our junior high team will consist of Kevin Willis, Tyler McCann and Peter Jenkins from the ninth grade and they will fill three of our primary team spots. The eighth grade spots go to Alan Wilcox and Christopher Rand, they will be our alternates. I am also very pleased to announce that this year, we have a seventh grader as our other primary. That spot has been awarded to Samuel Winchester.

Dean immediately felt himself swell up with pride that his little brother had not only made the team, but was actually a first stringer. Gray had told him that this was extremely rare, but he'd known that Sammy could do it. Part of him was hoping he himself hadn't made the team. He still didn't want to do this, but he would for Sam, even if Sam still hated him for it.

Eric Jeter went on to the name the specific category teams. He gave a sigh of relief when he was named the 11th grade representative for the math category. Now they had a fighting chance of their father letting them go on away trips. Dean wanted to groan though, when he found out the first practice was actually the very next day.

"Hey, good job, Sam. I knew you could do it," Dean said proudly to his little brother.

Sam just glared at his brother. "Yeah, bet you can't wait to tell dad all about how you made the team. He won't care about me."

"That's not true and you know it," Dean tried to reason with his brother.

"Drop it, okay," Sam said and he walked over to join his friends.

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The next couple of weeks were as bad as Dean had feared they would be. Practices were almost like another class. There were tests and assignments and homework. Dean hated every bit of it. Not to mention that Sam was still treating him like a traitor. Dean really dreaded going to school on Tuesdays and Thursdays now, and all this was really playing havoc with his blood sugar. He really felt like crap.

One day after practice, they were getting a ride home with Gray. Dean needed to get his kit from the nurse's station and use the bathroom, so he told Sam and his friend that he would meet them at Gray's car.

"What's up with you and Dean?" Gray asked Sam as soon as Dean had disappeared.

"Nothing," Sam muttered.

"Something is," Gray probed. The one thing Gray wished for and that money couldn't buy was that he could have a relationship with his brother like the one his friend had. Thayer hated him and it killed Gray that Dean and his brother were fighting.

Sam liked Gray as much as Dean did and he suddenly found himself blurting out his feelings. "Why did Dean have to try out? I wanted to do this on my own. He just can't stand it when… what?" Sam stopped abruptly when he saw the look on Gray's face.

"You know, Sam, I like you, but right now, I would really like to smack you upside the head, and I would, except I know that your brother would smack me into next week for doing it."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked in confusion.

"Look Sam, for a smart guy, you can be an idiot at times. Do you really think Dean did this to show you up?" Gray asked in disbelief.

"If you're so smart, you tell me," Sam snapped.

"Sam, have you watched your brother these past couple of weeks? He's miserable."

"If he doesn't like it, he could just quit," Sam mumbled.

"No, he can't. You're lucky, Sam. There was no way Thayer would ever do this for me," Gray said wisely. He was really hoping Sam would catch on to what he was saying.

"How can you say that, I..." Once again, Sam stopped abruptly, Gray's words hitting him like a ton of bricks. His dad had been about to say no, and with Bobby out of town, they would have had no way to get him to work on their father. Dean had said he'd try out because he'd been about to get into a major fight with his father and John would have said no to him even trying out. Dean had done it to protect him. His father would let him go out of town if his brother was there to keep on eye on him. Sam felt terrible for the way he had treated his brother, but he also felt extremely guilty. As much as he was sure Dean hated this, Sam loved it and he didn't want to quit. If Dean did, he would have to quit as well. He really needed to talk to his brother.

He was silent for the ride home and for most of the evening. That night, as they were getting ready for bed, Sam hugged his brother.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam said genuinely.

"What for?" Dean asked in confusion as Sam let him go.

"Thanks," Sam said simply.

"Again, what for?"

"Looking out for me, like you always do. I'm sorry I didn't see that. You tried out so dad would let me."

"It was no big deal," Dean said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"I was an idiot. Will you forgive me?" Sam asked hopefully.

"Nothing to forgive, Sam," Dean said as he grabbed his PJs out of his drawer. He had to go the bathroom and check his blood sugar.

Dean was facing a new dilemma. He had been feeling worse as the week went on, and in the last couple of days, his readings had been off. He didn't want to tell his father because he knew he'd end up at the doctor's office, and there was a competition coming up. Sighing, he knew what he had to do. He took his diary to his father and told him what was going on.

John immediately called Dean's doctor. Dr. Conlan advised John to keep a close eye on Dean over the next couple of days and if his readings didn't improve, he was to bring him in.

Dean said goodnight to his father and went to his room.

"Night, Dean," Sam said.

"Night," Dean said and hesitantly added, "Sammy." He was pleased when Sam didn't correct him. He rolled over and faced the door, then he sneezed.

TBC

Just a reminder that I live for reviews, so please let me know what you thought.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize is still owned by Kripke and company. No money is being made from this.

Thanks again to Soar for her beta work and help on this chapter. Thanks to Sinead-Conlan for the medical fact check. Any left over mistakes are my own.

On Frinday morning, Dean knew he was coming down with a cold, his nose was running and he had a headache.

_Great, just what I need, he thought bitterly. _

He had a full weekend planned, he didn't have time to get sick. There was a big English test coming up on Monday and they were going to be spending that day's class reviewing everything, something Dean really needed. He also had a physics test and his Latin assignment was due. In addition to that, the first academic elite competition on Saturday. He may have hated being on the team, but the fact remained that he was a member and he was not about to let his team mates down, they were counting on him. Finally, on Sunday afternoon, he had promised to take Kelsey, Sam and Max to the movies, he couldn't let them down.

He was planning to spend all day after school studying for his test, which was the reason he hadn't planned a date with Kelsey today, then the competition, more studying, the movies and finally more studying. He had only managed a 51 on his last English test, so he really needed to do well in the next one.

Getting sick was just something that couldn't happen, and he never admitted it even when he was, but he realized that with his diabetes, he may not have a choice.

"Dean, breakfast," he heard his father call out.

Dean dragged himself to the kitchen. He said good morning to his dad and brother and then got his meds out of the fridge. He slipped into the bathroom, checked his blood sugar and prepared his syringe, then he just stood there staring at it. He gave a groan of frustration. The thought of food right now was making him nauseous, but if he took his needle, the insulin in his system would require him to eat. He knew he couldn't skip it though, because it would throw his blood sugar even more out of whack. With a long suffering sigh, he raised his shirt, swabbed his abdomen and injected his medication. He really hated this stupid disease.

"Hey, Dean," Sam called as Dean made his way back to the kitchen and put his insulin back in the fridge.

"Morning, Sammy," Dean greeted his brother as he accepted his breakfast from his father.

"You ready for Saturday?" Sam asked excitedly.

"I hope so," Dean mumbled.

"You feelin' okay there, kiddo?" John asked as he sat down to eat his own breakfast and got a good look at his eldest.

Dean was tempted to lie and say that he felt fine, but if he looked anything like he felt, his father would see through the lie in a heartbeat. Before he could make up his mind though, his body decided for him when it erupted with a sneeze.

"I think I'm getting a cold," he mumbled afterwards.

"How's your blood sugar? I know you've been a little off lately," John asked with concern.

"It's still not back to where it should be, but I do feel better since I've started to eat," Dean said honestly. This was true and the food appeared willing to stay down.

"Do you think you're okay to go to school today?" John asked.

"Yeah," Dean said. He would have really liked to crawl back into his bed, but he couldn't afford to miss today. His father firmly believed that if his sons were sick enough to stay home from school, they were too sick to take part in any other activities for at least 48 hours. This was John's way of making sure his sons didn't try to play sick. Dean needed to go to school, mainly for his English review and the fact that he had people counting on him. He couldn't let them down.

"I promise, dad, if I feel like something's wrong, I'll make sure Doris gives you a call," Dean added when it looked like his father was about to say something else. Doris was the school nurse and since Dean was there everyday, he was getting to know her. She kind of reminded him of Betty, the nurse he'd had when he was first diagnosed with diabetes. "Oh, that reminds me, dad, I need some more syringes. I've only got about 10 left." He wanted to get his dad's attention off him.

"I'll pick them up tomorrow," John said, letting Dean change the subject.

"Dad, you're coming to the competition tomorrow, right?" Sam asked hopefully.

"Yup," John confirmed. "I think Bobby's coming too. I was thinking that afterwards, we could go out for something to eat. A celebration if you win and a consolation if you lose," John offered.

"Yeah," Sam cried. "Can we go to Charlie's?" Sam asked as he named a popular local restaurant.

"We'll see," John said with a glance toward his eldest. Charlie's offered more desserts than they did anything else and John knew that would be hard on Dean.

"It's okay, dad. Charlie's is fine. They have frozen yoghurt as well, I can have that."

"I thought you were going out with Gray after the meet, Dean," Sam said in confusion.

John frowned. This was the first he'd heard about this. If Dean wanted to go out with his friends, John had no problem with that, but his son knew how he felt about last minute surprises.

"It's okay, dad. I'm not going," Dean stated, knowing exactly what his father was thinking.

"Sam, Dean, what's up?" John asked, but in a tone that clearly meant that answers were not optional.

"Gray told me that the senior team usually goes out for a celebration if they win. I know he invited you, Dean," Sam explained.

"Do you want to go out with your friends afterward, Dean?" John questioned his eldest.

"Ah, no, that's okay. I'd rather go with you guys," Dean replied.

"Why don't you want to go out with your friends?" John asked, the frown still on his face.

Dean knew what his father was thinking, that he was self conscious about going to a restaurant because of his diet. The truth had nothing to do with his diabetes. He just wasn't comfortable hanging out in groups. He was completely relaxed when it was just Gray, but he didn't like crowds. He never had and he never would, and with the way he currently felt, he would just be happy to get through tomorrow.

Dean just shrugged. He knew that answer would never be one his father would accept because again, his father would see it as him not liking crowds because of his diabetes.

"Dean," John prompted firmly, mistaking Dean's silence. "How many times do we have to go over this? You can't let..."

"It's not that, dad," Dean interrupted his father.

"Then what is it?" John repeated.

"I just don't what to go," Dean said.

"Why?" John asked again.

Dean felt his temper flare up and he snapped at his father, he just couldn't help it. "What? I have to have reason for everything. I said I don't want to go so just leave it at that." With that, Dean got up and left the kitchen.

"Jonathan Dean, I'm talking to you," John thundered and followed his eldest out the door. "Now you've got exactly 3 seconds to lose the attitude."

"Yes sir," Dean mumbled, trying to put some sincerity in his tone. He couldn't afford to get grounded.

"Dad, please don't get mad at Dean," Sam said, coming in to join the conversion. "I didn't mean to start anything."

"It's okay, Sammy," John said. "Let's discuss this later. We're going to be late if we don't get going. Sam, Dean, go get your blazers and meet me in the car.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam tried to apologize to his big brother.

"Don't worry about it, Sammy," Dean said with a wave of dismissal. "Come on, the sooner this day starts, the sooner it ends."

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Sam asked in a worried tone.

"I'm fine, Sammy," Dean said, but his body betrayed him when he finished with another sneeze.

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Dean emerged from his English class and told Gray that he would meet him in the cafeteria. He knew he was going to be in trouble come Monday. His social studies teacher had thrown a 1500 word essay at them that morning, due on Monday. He was going to have to revise his weekend schedule. He decided to work on his essay after school, leaving the rest of the weekend free for studying, and he was going to need every minute. The review had actually done him more harm than good, he was more confused than ever.

He went to the nurse's office for his injection and Doris took one look at him and threatened to call his father. He had managed to put on the charm and convince her he was fine though.

Afterwards, he stopped by his locker to grab his history text. His history class room was nowhere near his locker and he wanted to avoid the long route and just go to class directly from the cafeteria. No sooner had he got his locker open though, when a cough was ripped from him.

Dean hated ties at the best of times, and when he was trying to get his cough under control, it felt like it was strangling him, so without thinking, he reached up and loosened it.

Westcott had a very strict policy regarding its school uniforms. Rule number one was that your tie had to be pulled up at all times. It was an automatic detention if you were caught with it down. Most teachers didn't really abide by this, though, if they found a student who had it loose, they simply reminded the boy of school policy and asked him to pull it up.

"Winchester," he heard a voice growl behind him and Dean fought the urge to groan.

"Yes, Mr. Wright," Dean said as he turned around and saw his social studies teacher. Out of all the teachers that could have walked by, it had to be this one.

"Here is your detention slip for your infraction of the school's dress policy," Mr. Wright said as he handed Dean the paper and continued on down the hallway.

"Great," he mumbled to himself sarcastically. For the life of him, Dean couldn't figure out why his teacher disliked him so much. Dean always made an extra effort to be polite and respectful. His homework was always done and handed in on time. His grade was actually at a B so far, which had shocked the young hunter. He looked up at the row of pay phones along the other side of the corridor. He had to tell his father about his detention and John was not going to be happy.

Dean put his quarter in the slot, dialled his father's work number and asked to speak to him.

_"Hello," John said as he accepted the phone from his boss. _

"Uh, hi dad," Dean greeted his father.

_"Dean,__are you okay?" John asked in concern._ He had been worried about his eldest all morning.

"Fine, dad," Dean replied. "I'm calling about something else."

_"What did you do?" John growled. If it wasn't his diabetes, then__he must have done something to get himself in trouble. _

"I, um, I have a detention. Mr. Wright caught me with my tie loose," Dean admitted. He normally wouldn't have been so upfront with the reason, but he knew that he needed to get to the cafeteria and eat something soon, he had just taken his insulin. _And why didn't you call him after you ate? Because you're__an idiot,__that's why, Dean berated himself. _

_"Dean," John started and then changed his mind. Lectures were better done in person than over the phone. "Never mind. We'll talk about this later and we'll have plenty of time because__for the next three days, except__for the competition tomorrow, you'll be__grounded."_

"But dad..." He couldn't disappoint Sammy, he knew how much his brother was looking forward to going to the movies on Sunday. He was about to explain that when he sneezed again.

_"No but dad, Dean," John stated firmly. This wasn't something he would have normally grounded his son for,__but he knew that__Dean was feeling under the weather and if he was__grounded, then__he would be forced to take it easy._

"Yes, sir," Dean acknowledged, then he said goodbye to his father and hung up the phone.

He fished a granola bar out of his backpack and ate it on the way to the cafeteria to be on the safe side. He also managed to choke down a reasonable of amount of his meal, enough to keep him from keeling over anyway. He was glad that he had health studies that afternoon rather than gym, because he really didn't think he could make it through. Even autoshop gave him no pleasure that day and he was just relieved to hear the final bell.

As the school began to empty, he dragged himself to the room where detentions were held. He really hated detention, period, but here at Westcott, it was even worse. In his old school, detention was just sitting in a room and staring at the clock until some bored teacher let them out early. Here, they actually made you write lines. You had to write I will not... and whatever your infraction was, 250 times. Dean couldn't believe it. He hadn't written lines since grade 4.

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John had not been happy that he'd had to wait an extra 45 minutes after work to drive Dean home and he had made those feelings very clear to his eldest.

Sam had gone to his friend's house after school, so John and Dean stopped by and picked him up before driving home. Dean spent the entire drive brooding over the fact that he had to tell Sammy that he had let him down once again.

When they got home, Dean headed straight for his room and changed out of his uniform. He took his third injection and grabbed an apple from the fridge and then went to go talk to Sam. He found his brother in the living room, just getting off the phone.

"Hey, Sam," Dean greeted as he came into the living room. "Can I talk to you… _aaaaccchhhoooo_," a sneeze punctuated his speech. "Sorry, Sammy."

"You feelin' okay, Dean?" Sam asked, not bothering to keep the concern out his voice.

_Not really. _"Fine," Dean answered and told his brother about Mr. Wright catching him in the hallway with his tie loose. "Dad grounded me for the detention. I'm sorry I can't take you to the movies," he apologized sincerely.

"It's okay, Dean. I was just on the phone with Max actually. I know you're not feeling well, no matter what you say, so I told Max we were going to postpone until next weekend. He was okay with it. There's nothing to apologize for, Dean," Sam said and left the living room so he wouldn't have to deal with the protest that Dean was sure to put up, claiming that he was fine.

Dean was glad that Sam wasn't upset. He just hoped that Kelsey would be as understanding.

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Kelsey lay on her bed, reading the latest VC Andrews novel. She usually had a date with Dean on a Friday night, but he had asked if it would be okay if they skipped it this week. He had a major test coming up and he needed every spare moment he could get to prepare for it. She had told him that it was fine with her and she was going to Dean's competition tomorrow anyway, she couldn't pass up a chance to see him in his uniform.

_RING RING_

Kelsey grabbed her phone. "Hello," she answered.

_"Hey, Kelse," she heard her friend Miranda greet her. _

"Hey, Miranda."

_"Just calling to take away some of your boredom__since you were dumped for an English textbook."_

"Very funny. So you and Todd doing anything special tonight?"

_"You could say that," Miranda said shyly. _

Something went off in Kelsey's mind. "Miranda, you and Todd?" was all she got out.

"Yup. My parents are going out of town for the night and Max is sleeping over at a friend's house. I invited Todd over to watch some movies, but tonight's the night, Kelse. I went shopping for some condoms this afternoon. I want to surprise him."

"He's not pressuring you is he?" Kelsey questioned her friend.

"Well, he's been asking a little more frequently, but I really like him, Kelsey, and I want to do this. It's totally my decision," Miranda confirmed.

"Just be careful," Kelsey cautioned.

"I will. What about you? Are you and Dean…" she trailed off.

"No. We've kissed and touched, but that's about it," Kelsey explained shyly.

"Does Dean pressure you?" Miranda asked curiously.

"No, he's kind of old fashioned. He opens doors, pulls out my chair and he lets me take the lead on everything we do."

"I think that's kind of sweet. Normally, boys just want to hop straight into bed and be done with you."

"We did talk about sex once, but I told him I wasn't ready, and he told me that he respected that."

"We got two good ones, Kelsey," Miranda said sincerely.

"We did, now promise you'll call me tomorrow and tell me how it was," Kelsey said with a hint of a giggle.

"I will," Miranda promised.

Kelsey had just hung up the phone when it rang again. This time, it was Dean calling about Sunday. He was honest with Kelsey, telling her that he was coming down with a cold, about being grounded and that he was sorry and he hoped she understood. She told him it was alright and said that she would see him tomorrow. She hung up the phone and went down the hall to find her mother. The two were really close and Kelsey knew that she could talk to her mother about anything, and that included sex. Kelsey had to admit that she was curious about what it would be like to be with Dean.

"Hey, mom," Kelsey said as she found her mother in the kitchen. She was glad her father wasn't home.

"Hey, hun, what's up?"

"Can I talk you about something?" Kelsey asked her mother seriously.

"Anything, you know that," her mother said firmly.

"I was just talking to Miranda."

"You two doing anything tonight?" her mother asked.

"No, Todd's going over to her house."

Her mom raised an eyebrow and looked over at her daughter. "I though you said Miranda's parents were going out of town."

"They are," Kelsey confirmed.

"Have they had sex yet?" her mother asked. She knew where this was going.

"Not yet, she's planning on tonight being her first time."

"What about you and Dean?" her mother asked tensely.

"Relax, mom, we haven't done anything yet, but..." she trailed off.

"You're curious."

"Yeah, how do you know when the time is right? Before you ask, no, Dean is not pressuring me about this."

"I believe you, honey. I like Dean and so does your father, which is saying a lot. As your mother, I have to tell you that the time is right when you're married," she said with a soft grin. She was glad that her daughter could come and talk to her about these things. "As a realist, I have to tell you that when the time is right, you'll know it in your heart."

"That doesn't help much," Kelsey said.

"I can't give you the answer you want, hun. I can't say Thursday, April 3, 2009 at four thirty in the afternoon."

Kelsey couldn't help the small giggle that escaped her. Her mom was the best. "Just trust yourself and you'll know. Please Kelsey, whatever you decide to do, please know that you can talk to me about anything, and please be careful and use protection. It only takes one time."

"I will, mom. You're the best," Kelsey said as she reached out and gave her mom a huge hug.

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"Sam, Dean, time for lunch. We have to leave in about an hour," John called from the hallway. It was Saturday and his boys had a competition that afternoon and John couldn't actually believe how much he was looking forward to it. He hadn't seen Dean compete in anything since he was four years old and playing T-Ball. He was just surprised at the nature of the competition his eldest was taking part in.

Come to think of it, he couldn't believe how well Dean was doing with his school work in general. He couldn't think of a time when Dean had given up a hunt or a date to study English. He had a B in social studies, a D in English and A's in every other subject. Sam had A's in everything. He was so proud of his boys.

"Hey, dad," Sam said brightly as he stepped into the kitchen.

"Hey, kiddo. You ready for today?"

"Yeah. I'm nervous though."

"You're going to do great," John said reassuringly and Sam beamed at his father's confidence in him.

"What about afterwards, dad? Are we still going out? I wouldn't mind if we stayed in tonight. I don't think Dean's feeling all that well."

"How was he last night, Sammy?" John questioned.

"He was coughing and sneezing a lot. He's going to be okay though, right, dad?" Sam asked worriedly. He didn't normally worry about a cold, but he wasn't sure how it would affect his brother's diabetes.

John was worried about the same thing. He knew that Dean had been struggling to get it back under control in the past couple of weeks.

"Dean," John called again when his eldest failed to appear.

Dean had been stretched out on his bed, hoping that he could just disappear. He felt like crap and his weekend schedule was shot to hell. He'd been too tired to work on his essay or study for his test last night, and had gone to bed early. He hadn't slept well and wanted to go to bed early that night as well, which would leave tomorrow as the only day to not only study, but to write his essay. He had to face it, he was screwed to hell, no matter which way he looked at it.

He heard his father call him again and he dragged his behind out of bed. He grabbed his uniform and shook his head, wondering at the fact that he was voluntarily putting on this torture device on a Saturday, of all things. He dragged himself out to the kitchen for lunch, all the while praying to a God he didn't believe in to make sure his lunch stayed down.

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The competition that afternoon was taking place against Kennedy High School. There was a long standing rivalry between the two schools, with Kennedy taking the honors for the last three years in a row. Westcott was definitely looking for payback.

The competitions were broken down into two main sections. There were general sections in which the questions were about any subject and there were specific sections that were about one subject. Each section was broken down in three categories, random, group and individual. In the random part, it was just like a game show, if you knew the answer, you buzzed in. Right answers were worth one point and you lost a point if you got the answer wrong. The group part was when the entire team was given a question and worked to solve it, the first group to answer got 5 points and wrong answers lost 5 points, and then there was individual part. Each person on both teams, was asked three questions. Right answers were worth two points and wrong answers lost 2 points. As well as a group winner in each section, individual point totals were also kept track of as well.

The Winchesters arrived at the school an hour before the meet started with Bobby, who had Miranda and Kelsey in his car, right behind them. Meeting in the assigned room, John took a program that gave the room numbers and times where each section was taking place. He realized that he had a big problem when he saw that the junior general category was taking place at the exact same time as the senior math category. If he was going to watch both his boys compete, then he was going to have to be in two places at once.

"Dad," Dean offered when he saw his own schedule. "Go watch Sam. He was really looking forward to having you there. I've got Kelsey and Miranda watching me, and Bobby's here."

"Are you sure, Dean?" John asked.

"Yeah," Dean said. He would have liked to have his father there, but he'd had enough of his father's attention lately. It was Sammy's turn.

"Knock 'em dead, son," John said and gave Dean a light tap on the back.

"Thanks, dad," Dean said.

He watched his father and Sam head out of the room and walked over to join Wes and Doug, his team mates. He was just getting ready to sit down when sneezed again.

Gray stopped by on the way to him own competition, he wanted to wish Dean good luck. He was just about to greet him when he heard Dean's sneeze. He hoped his friend was feeling okay and decided to ask him. Mr. Jeter would have understood if he was sick. "You sure you're up for this?" Gray called to Dean.

"Yeah," Dean replied and greeted Gray with a small grin.

"You can always ask Mr. Jeter to put an alternate in."

"Can't." _cough cough "_Team's countin' on me," Dean said and took his seat and tried to stop another cough from ripping out of him.

Gray watched his friend retreat. He had a feeling that even if Dean had just been hit by a bus, he would have found a way to drag himself to where he needed to be if he thought someone was counting on him. It was one of the things Gray admired most about his friend.

While Bobby had wandered up to Dean to satisfy his own curiosity as to Dean's health status, Kelsey finally had a chance to grill her friend about her evening.

"Spill," Kelsey ordered her friend.

"Oh, Kelsey," Miranda gushed. "What a night. I cooked supper for us and then we had some dessert. I told Todd I was ready and handed him a condom. Todd asked me if I was sure and I said yes, then we went to my room."

"What was it like?" Kelsey asked.

"I was really nervous and it kind of hurt at first, but Todd was really gentle and sweet. We did it last night and Todd spent the night and then we did it again this morning. It was so much better the second time. It was everything I thought it would be. I can't wait until tonight. We're taking his car to lookout point," Miranda said, naming a popular make out spot. "We would go back to my place, but mom and dad are home this afternoon, and if they knew what we'd done last night, they would ground me for life."

Kelsey was just glad her own mother wasn't like that. If and when she decided she was ready, she planned to ask her mom for advice.

"I'm glad your happy, Randa," Kelsey said to her friend, hugging her tightly.

Meanwhile, Bobby made his way over to where Dean was sitting. "Are you sure you're feeling up to this?" Bobby questioned Dean.

_Cough, cough, aaachhhoo, cough, cough, cough. _"I'm fine," Dean said unconvincingly. If one more person asked him that, he was really going to lose it.

"Okay, good luck, son," Bobby encouraged. He didn't believe Dean for a minute, but there wasn't much he could do about it at the moment, especially since the announcer said the competition was about to start and everyone was asked to take their seats.

"Dean's really good at math. He's going to be awesome," Kelsey assured Bobby as he took the empty seat next to her.

"Did you know he's been able to find mistakes in my account books since he was 10?" Bobby said.

"No, you have to tell me the full story, but wait until Dean's here. Wouldn't do much good if he's not here to be embarrassed by it."

Bobby grinned. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

They listened as the announcer introduced both teams and explained the rules and how the rounds worked. They were starting with the random category.

"What is an acute angle?" he asked the first question.

Dean knew this. It was geometry that they were currently studying. He buzzed in. "An angle that measures between 0 and 90 degrees."

"That is correct and Westcott Academy scores the first point."

Dean also found himself grinning when his team mates slapped him on the back and congratulated himself. Bobby flashed him a big smile and turned to the person sitting next to him. "That's my nephew," he said proudly.

Two hours later, the competition ended and the final scores were read. "The final score in senior math, Kennedy High School 156 and Westcott Academy 185. Individual scores for Kennedy are Stacey Miller 36, Adam Quirk 58 and Ryan West 62. For Westcott, Wesley MacDonald 44, Douglas Cooper 57 and Dean Winchester 84. This makes Westcott winner of the individual and group categories, congratulations to both teams. You played an excellent game.

Bobby was quick to congratulate Dean and the others at the end. He couldn't believe some of the questions that Dean had managed to figure out in his head. He couldn't have been a prouder uncle.

Dean, of course, tried to blow off the praise when his team mates said he'd made the difference in the victory.

"I can't believe Stacey only scored a 36," Doug said. "I think she's got a crush on you, Dean. I think you distracted her," he teased.

"Just an off day would be my guess," Dean said dismissively. He wished Doug hadn't said that in front of Kelsey.

"Don't worry, Dean, I can't blame her. Great job today, by the way." With that, Kelsey leaned into Dean and gave him a quick peck on the check, which immediately caused Dean to blush a bright red.

"I'm going to head over and see if Sammy's done yet. I bet he kicked ass," Dean said as he quickly made his escape, his friends following him.

He pulled his tie loose as soon as he stepped out of the room. He didn't care if it was allowed or not, he felt like he was suffocating.

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While Dean was at his competition Sam was waiting for the start of his. He was really nervous and was feeling the added pressure because he was the only starting seventh grader on both teams. He really wanted to do well.

The announcer once again began by introducing the teams and explaining the rules. Sam looked at the audience and saw his father watching him. He couldn't believe that his dad was really there. Sam gave a small grin and hoped one of the questions was 'what do you say to a guy if you think he's possessed?' Then he would have a reason to say Christo to his father.

"In what year was the Magna Carta was signed," was the actually first question the announcer asked.

Sam hit his buzzer and stated confidently. "1215."

"That is correct. Westcott Academy scores the first point."

Sam couldn't keep the grin of his face when he saw the look of pride on his father's face.

The competition went on and Sam found himself gradually relaxing. He felt that he was doing well. His only regret was that Dean wasn't here watching him and Sam found himself wondering how his brother was doing. He was willing to bet Dean was kicking ass.

Kennedy was a good team and the competition was stiff, with the lead going back and forth between the two teams. It all came down to the last round of individual questions. Westcott was down by one point and they were down to their last question. It all rested on the shoulders of the youngest Winchester. He found himself praying for anything but a math question.

"Sam Winchester for Westcott, what does X equal in the following equation?" the announcer asked as he flashed a problem on the overhead projector. "You have three minutes."

Sam felt like he was on the verge of a panic attack. Why'd it have to be math? Nothing looked like it made sense to the young hunter, but that moment, he just happened to glance up and saw his big brother leaning against the wall. The sight returned the young hunter's confidence and he looked again at the problem.

"Eig…" Sam started and then stopped. He had forgotten a step. "Negative 9," Sam corrected himself.

"That is correct for two points, giving Westcott 167 and Kennedy 166."

Sam's team erupted into cheers. This was the first time in three years that the junior team had beaten Kennedy. When the announcer read the individual scores, Sam had come in second behind a Kennedy player, but without his points, they would have gotten their asses whipped, Dean realized. He couldn't be prouder of his little brother.

Dean was the first person Sam ran to. "I did it, Dean. I remembered to make sure I double checked the negative. Thanks, Dean," Sam said. He wanted to hug his brother, but he didn't want to embarrass him.

"I knew you could do it," Dean said proudly.

"Great job, Sam," he heard his father come up behind him. "I didn't know the answer to that question."

"Thanks, dad," Sam said, his smile getting bigger as his team mates also came up and congratulated him.

"How'd your team do?" John asked his eldest.

"We won," Dean said and didn't elaborate. He didn't want to take the spotlight away from his little brother.

"He did great, Johnny," Bobby added when he realized that Dean wasn't going to fill in the gaps. "Highest scorer on his team."

"I'm so proud of both you boys," John said sincerely. He knew his boys were smart, he just hadn't realized how smart.

By the time the total points were added, Westcott had won both the junior and senior categories. Dean found out that he had the second highest points total on his whole team, right behind Gray, and that he was fourth highest point scorer of the whole competition. Sam was the third highest scorer in the whole competition and the first seventh grader to lead the whole junior high team. John, Bobby's and Dean's pride went up another notch.

Both Sam and Dean were invited out to celebrate with their respective teams. Dean had made it through the last couple of hours on pure adrenaline though, and he was starting to get low. He was almost glad that he was grounded, so he could just go home. He did, however, encourage Sam to go out and enjoy himself.

Dean followed John home and after choking down a snack, he grabbed his English textbook and tried to settle down to study. He laid his head on his pillow.

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"Dean, supper," Dean heard his father call.

Wiping sleep out of his eyes, Dean glanced at his bedside clock and realized that an hour had passed. He couldn't believe that he had fallen asleep. He dragged himself out of bed, even though he wanted to stay there, and went down the hall for his dinner.

Sam had arrived home while he'd been asleep and he still couldn't stop taking about the competition. The next one was going to be at Lincoln High School in two weeks. It was an away trip and Sam was really looking forward to it. He had never done anything like that before.

Dean was glad that Sam was dominating the conversation. It kept his dad's attention off him. After eating enough to satisfy his dad, he went back to his room to try and study some more. He managed a couple of hours before his head started pounding, so he went for some aspirin and joined his dad and brother in the living room. John had decided that he really liked the ritual of renting bad movies and making fun of them so he had rented a couple. He made some popcorn and spent an enjoyable evening with his sons.

After the second movie, Dean went to take his last injection of the day and made sure to eat his snack. Then he claimed he was tired and went to bed, leaving his dad and Sam to watch The Toxic avenger. Sam and John watched him leave with concern. John really hoped that his eldest wasn't coming down with the flu. He knew it was dangerous for a diabetic to get the flu because it could easily turn into a chest infection or pneumonia. He vowed to keep a close eye on his son in the next couple of days.

Sunday passed much like Saturday. Dean stayed in his room for most of the day, leaving only to eat or use the bathroom. He was trying to finish his social studies essay. He had managed to get something down on paper, but he knew it was crap. He tried to study for English, but he realized that it was hopeless. His headache had returned and he was having trouble concentrating. He gave up, realizing that he was doomed anyway, so what difference did it make if he failed by a lot or a little. He worked with Sam on some math, talked to Gray and Kelsey on the phone, then he joined his father and brother for dinner at Bobby's, like they did every Sunday. When they got home, Dean took his last injection a bit early, ate his snack and then went to bed.

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It seemed to Dean that he had just closed his eyes when he heard his father calling him and his brother. John asked Dean if he was up to going to school and once again, Dean told his father that he was okay.

By the time he got there, he wished he had taken his father up on his offer of a day off. The last time he had felt this bad was when he was first diagnosed with diabetes. He trudged down the hall to social studies and handed in his essay. He really hoped Mr. Wright didn't pick on him, he'd doubted that he'd be able to control his tongue. About half way through class, he started to feel shaky so he ate several glucose tablets.

After class, he went directly to the nurse's station to check his blood sugar. It was low so he took an orange out of his backpack and ate it on the way to math. He went to see Doris again after math because he was still feeling shaky and he really had to do some fast talking to get her to let him go to Latin. About 10 minutes into his Latin class, he knew that the orange he had eaten earlier wasn't enough. He raised his hand and got permission to leave class. He would just have to make sure he got a pass from Doris and hand it into his Latin teacher before the end of the day.

When he showed up for the third time, Doris put her foot down and refused to let him leave. She called John and asked him to come pick Dean up. John came immediately and took Dean home and sent him to bed.

Dean managed to eat something when he got home and he felt a little better, so John decided to hold off on calling Dean's doctor unless Dean couldn't keep anything down. He did call Bobby and arrange for him to stay with Dean the next day though.

The next morning, John took Dean's supplies into his son's room, so he wouldn't have to get out of bed. Dean choked down his breakfast, but his luck ran out when it came back up shortly afterwards. John immediately put in a call to Dean's doctor. He got the answering service and a promise that Dr. Conlan would call him back.

"Hey, Johnny, how's Dean?" Bobby said as he entered the living room. He had just arrived and let himself in.

"Thanks for coming, Bobby. He's thrown up this morning and I'm waiting for his doctor to call me back," John said with concern. "I'm just going to let him know I'm leaving now that you're here though."

John walked back into his son's room. Dean was sipping some half flat soda in an attempt to settle his stomach and keep his blood sugar up. Sam was sitting at the end of his bed, trying to keep his spirits up.

"Hey, buddy, how're you doing?" John asked his son gently.

"I've been better," Dean admitted. "You headed to work?"

"Yeah. If you need anything, Bobby's here," John explained.

Dean looked insulted. "I don't need a babysitter," he snapped.

"Sam, go get in the car," John ordered.

Sam gave once last look toward his brother and followed his dad's order. He didn't want to leave Dean, but he knew his father would never let him stay home from school. "I'll see you soon, Dean. I hope you feel better.

"Dean, under normal circumstances, I would agree that you don't need looking after, but if you can't keep food down, you need someone here in case your blood sugar drops too low. I'll be home later this afternoon," John said reasonably.

Dean knew his father was right, but he still didn't have to like it. He just scowled, rolled over and shut his eyes.

"Feel better soon, buddy," John said gently as he walked out the door.

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Bobby frequently checked on Dean throughout the morning, but he was relieved when the phone rang.

"Hello," Bobby answered.

"Mr. Winchester, it's Doctor Conlan returning your call. How's Dean?"

"Hi Doc. This is his brother. John had to go to work."

"Bobby is it?"

"Yes sir."

"What's going on with Dean, Bobby?"

"He's been coming down with a cold for the last few days. He threw up breakfast this morning, but he kept some soda down. Should I have him skip his afternoon injection?" Bobby asked.

"No," Dr. Conlan said firmly. "That is the worst thing you can do. Just really keep an eye on his blood sugar…"

"That's your advice?" Bobby interrupted. "Eight years of medical school and you tell me to watch his blood sugar. I could have told you that without a medical degree." Bobby tended to snap at people when he was worried about Dean.

Dr. Conlan ignored Bobby's words. He'd heard them all before. "It is very easy for him to get dehydrated, so keep pushing the fluids. If his blood sugar drops below 100, or if he throws up again, or he gets a temp above 101, bring him in immediately."

"Okay doc, and thanks," Bobby said offering a small apology for his earlier behaviour.

"No problem. I'm on all day, so if you need me for anything, don't hesitate to call me."

After ending the conversation with the doctor, Bobby went in to check on Dean again, finding the young man asleep. He couldn't believe how pale Dean was, his freckles standing out in stark contrast. Bobby couldn't help but grin as he remembered the reason Dean hated his freckles so much. Four year old Sam had decided to use them to play connect the dots. It had taken Dean three days to get all the marks off his face.

Bobby reached out to smooth reached out to smooth the hair off Dean's forehead, but his concern went up another notch as he realized the young man had a fever. Bobby reached out to smooth the hair off Dean's forehead, but his concern went up another notch as he realized the young man had a fever. Frowning, Bobby went and grabbed the thermometer from the first aid kit he knew John kept under the sink. He went back to Dean's room and gently inserted it into the young hunter's ear. He waited for what seemed an eternity when it beeped. He pulled it out and read the display, 100.5. Bobby sighed, would Dean ever be able to catch a break?

Please remember to read and review. Feedback inspires my muise.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Disclaimer: still don't own them.

Once again a huge thank you to Sinead-Conlon and Soar for all their help with this chapter.

Bobby's concern went up another notch when he felt the heat coming from Dean's forehead. Frowning, Bobby went and grabbed the thermometer that he knew John kept in the first aid under the sink. He went back to Dean's room and gently inserted it into the young hunter's ear. He waited for what seemed like an eternity before it beeped, then he pulled it out and read the display, 100.5. It was borderline. Bobby debated whether or not it was high enough to call Dean's doctor. Before he could make a decision though, he realized that he should check Dean's blood sugar as well, just to be on the safe side. He hadn't had much to eat and Bobby knew that he could have a hypo in his sleep.

He hated to wake Dean, but he knew that if he tried to prick Dean's finger while he was sleeping, there was a really good chance that he could end up with a knife in his chest. He gave Dean a gentle shake and went to grab Dean's lancets, test strips and meter off his dresser.

"Dean, I need you to wake up for me," Bobby said.

"G'way, sleepin'," Dean mumbled.

He gave Dean another shake. "Come on, sleeping beauty, time to check your blood sugar," Bobby quipped, trying to keep the concern out of his voice. Dean's reply was to offer his hand to Bobby with his middle finger raised. "Dean..." Bobby started.

"What, you needed a finger for blood didn't you?" Dean interrupted him in an innocent tone.

"You try that one with your daddy?" Bobby asked as he took Dean's hand in his and poked the top of his finger with the lancet.

"No," Dean admitted. His eyes were fully open now and he gave Bobby a small grin.

"Just make sure I'm here if you do," Bobby requested and he squeezed a small amount of Dean's blood onto a test strip and inserted it into the meter. "101. Both your blood sugar and temp are borderline with what your doctor considers a danger zone. Do you think you can drink a little more soda?"

Dean groaned. "I'll try," he offered. He knew he was going to end up at the hospital if he didn't get his blood sugar up. He accepted the glass and managed to get it down, and luckily, it appeared that it was going to stay there.

Knowing that Dean was going to get restless if he was in bed all day, Bobby assisted him into the living room so Dean could lie on the couch and watch TV. Dean appreciated that fact because he really hated the boredom that came from lying in bed all day.

A couple of hours later, Bobby knew that it was nearing time for Dean's next insulin dose. He peeked into the living room and held back a grin when he saw that Dean was watching Oprah. He knew that if he went in there though, Dean was going to change the channel as fast as he could.

He went to the kitchen and looked around for something light to make him for lunch. Dean's meals were supposed to be well balanced with a certain number of carbohydrates and calories, and something from all four food groups. Right now though, all Bobby really wanted to do was give Dean something the young hunter would be able to keep down. He finally ended up heating up a can of chicken noodle soup. Not wanting to disturb Dean, Bobby then went to the bathroom and prepared Dean's syringe for him.

"Here, Dean, lunch will be ready in a moment," Bobby said as he entered the living room and handed Dean the syringe.

Dean heard Bobby approaching and grabbed the TV remote, turning the channel to a sports station. He really hoped the elder hunter hadn't seen him watching Oprah. He reached out and took the syringe he was being offered.

"You would have to mention food," Dean groaned as he felt a wave of nausea overcome him.

"You gotta eat, kiddo, otherwise I gotta take you to the doc's," Bobby said to Dean.

"I know," Dean conceded. "I'll try."

"Be right back," Bobby said.

When he left, Dean looked down at the needle in his hand. He felt like he was going to hurl and if he took his meds, then it was signing his ticket for a one way trip to Watertown General. He didn't want to go to the hospital, but what he wanted never seemed to matter. He hated hospitals and making a decision, he laid the syringe down on the coffee table. He would take it later when he didn't feel quite so bad.

He closed his eyes. He just wanted to sleep, but when he heard Bobby's footsteps, he forced them back open. He watched as Bobby laid a bowl of soup and a plate of crackers in front of him. Just the sight of it was making his stomach churn and he was glad that he had decided against taking his insulin.

"Did I get your dose wrong?" Bobby asked as he frowned at the still full syringe. It wasn't like Dean not to take his medication.

"No," was all Dean said.

"Then why is this still full?" Bobby asked, picking up the needle.

"I don't know if that's going to stay down," Dean admitted as he gestured toward his lunch. "I don't want to go to the hospital, Bobby." _Damn it,__why'd you say that out loud, you trying to land your ass in hell?_

"I know, kiddo, it sucks, but that may not happen, and if it does, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Remember, one thing at a time. First your meds and then lunch," Bobby said as he picked up the syringe and tried to hand it to the young hunter.

"I don't want it," Dean said stubbornly. "My blood sugar's okay right now."

"Your doc said the worst thing you can do is skip your insulin. Now, come on Dean, you have to take this, buddy," Bobby said unthinkingly.

He realized his error immediately when he saw Dean visibly tense up. Not even Sam was allowed to call Dean 'buddy', that name was reserved for John alone. Dean was as stubborn as his father and in a cranky mood, so this was sure to make it worse.

"Don't call me that," Dean said firmly. "You're not my father," he snapped.

Bobby couldn't help but flinch a bit at Dean's words. He knew that he wasn't Dean's father, but that didn't stop him from loving both of John's sons as if they were his own. "Sorry, Dean," Bobby said sincerely.

"S'okay, me too," Dean replied. He hadn't meant to snap at Bobby.

Bobby knew the only reason Dean hadn't put up more of a fuss was because he didn't have the energy, and that Dean was scared of ending up at the hospital, which was why he was refusing his meds. The elder hunter knew that they were going to end up there before the day was out though, and he was sure Dean knew it too. Bobby made a vow that he was going to put it off as long as possible though. "It's okay, don't worry about it," Bobby said reassuringly. "Come on, let's get this over with," he said, reaching for Dean's shirt. He decided it would be easier if he just gave Dean his injection.

"I said I don't want it," Dean said in almost a whining tone and he pushed Bobby's hand away from his abdomen.

"Dean," Bobby said in an admonishing tone. "This isn't negotiable."

"Leave me alone," Dean huffed back. He didn't want his needle. Didn't anyone care about that?

"You've got three options, s..., uh, Dean," Bobby stammered. He had a feeling that calling Dean 'son' might not go over too well, especially with his earlier faux pas and the fact that he was just about to give him an order. "One, you take this on your own, two you let me give it to you, or three, I'm going to sit on you and give it to you anyway. Your choice."

With a long suffering sigh, Dean pulled up his shirt and exposed his abdomen. He knew Bobby was serious. Glad that Dean had stopped fighting, Bobby went to swab the area for Dean's injection when Dean stopped him.

"Dean," Bobby firmly, thinking that Dean was about to voice another objection.

"No, not that. You can't put it there. I used that spot yesterday," Dean said.

"So," Bobby said.

"4 a day, times thirty days. That's about 120 a month, you have to rotate where you put them," Dean explained.

It wasn't until Dean spelled it out for him that Bobby was suddenly struck with the thought of how many times Dean had to poke himself in the course of a day, if you added in the 6 glucose checks, a day that he was required to do as well. "I never thought of that," Bobby said as he quickly injected Dean's insulin.

"S'ok," Dean said. "You get used to it," he offered as if he had read Bobby's thoughts.

"Here, try and eat this," Bobby said handing Dean his lunch.

Once again, luck was not on Dean's side when, no sooner than he had finished eating, it came right back up. Bobby assisted Dean down to the bathroom and sat with him while he retched, his heart going out to the young man. He hated seeing Dean suffer. Of course, since Dean had just had his injection, the symptoms of a hypo swiftly overcame the young hunter. Bobby ran and got Dean a glass of soda, but that too, failed to stay down. Bobby was getting desperate, he knew Dean's blood sugar had to be plummeting rapidly. Realizing that he had no choice, he went and got one of the glucose syringes John kept on hand.

"Sorry kiddo," Bobby said sincerely. "Come on, let me get you back to your room and I'll give you this. You know I have to call your doc, right?"

"I know," Dean muttered. "You may as well just give that to me here, it's just going to make me puke again," Dean said indicating the needle.

"Kay, you're going to have to help me out here. Where do you take this?"

"Thigh," Dean said, as he clutched the toilet. The room was starting to spin.

Bobby injected the glucose where Dean instructed him. True to form, just like the last two times he'd had one, Dean threw up again shortly afterward. With nothing in his stomach, it was mostly dry heaves. After the heaving had stopped, Bobby helped a still shaky Dean stand up and then led him back down the hall to his room. He sat him on his bed and told him to start getting dressed. He had a feeling that Dean's doctor was going to tell him to bring Dean to the hospital.

It didn't take Bobby long to reach Dr. Conlan, and his advice was to bring Dean in as soon as possible since, right now, he couldn't even keep fluids down. Dean was going to love this.

"Told ya," Dean said. He had made no move to get ready.

"I know, son, come on, do you need help?"

"No, I'm not going," Dean said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"It's okay, Dean," Bobby said as he reached out and put a hand on Dean's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. "I'll call your father as soon as we get there," Bobby promised. He was aware that the reason for Dean's behaviour had been his age old fear of hospitals kicking in.

"I hate this stupid disease," Dean mumbled as he accepted the coat that Bobby was handing him and just put it over his pjs, and then stuck his shoes on his feet. What was the point of getting dressed? If he had his own pjs, they might not make him wear one of those stupid hospital gowns.

"Me too, kiddo," Bobby said as he reached over and soothed the hair off Dean's forehead. He hoped it was him imagining things because Dean felt even hotter.

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Upon arrival at the hospital, Dr. Conlan took one look at his young patient and ordered him to be admitted. Dean didn't get his wish about keeping his pjs though, when Nurse Helen made him put on a gown. The only reason he didn't protest was because he just really wanted to climb into the bed. It wasn't long before his energy reserves gave out and he gave into sleep. He was so depleted that he slept right through the examination the doctor gave him.

"How is he, doc?" Bobby asked with growing concern.

"His temps elevated, 101.4. I'm going to order a course of antibiotics and IV fluids to keep his blood sugar up. His father called me a few days ago saying that it's been off, do you know how it's been lately?" Dr. Conlan asked. John had previously signed a form that allowed Bobby to make medical decisions for his son.

"I know he's been trying hard to get it back under control," Bobby said.

"Do you have his diary?" Dr. Conlan asked.

Bobby swore. He knew he had forgotten something when he left the house. "I have to call his father. I'll see if Johnny can pick it up on the way over. I can't leave," Bobby said.

"When was his last insulin dose?"

"About an hour ago. He had it just before lunch."

"His blood sugar is a bit low right now, but that's to be expected since he's not holding food down. He's not due for his next injection for another few hours, so I'm going to hold off on the IV insulin until I see his diary. It's really a wait and see game right now. I am concerned about his temp though, we're definitely going to have to keep an extremely close eye on it. It would be very easy for this to turn into pneumonia."

"I know it's not going to be soon, but any idea when he can get out of here? You know it's going to be the first thing he asks when he wakes up."

"I'd say at least 48 hours, and then it will be a day at a time, depending on how he responds," Dr. Conlan said with a grin. He knew what Bobby was saying was true. "Don't worry, your brother told me what happened before, there's a note on Dean's chart that exempts him from visiting hours. You and your brother are free to come and go as you please."

"Thanks doc."

"No problem, you can call me if you have any questions."

Shortly after the doctor left, Bobby picked up the phone. He had to call John. John said that he was going to see about getting the rest of the day off and see about getting Sam. Bobby asked John to stop by his house and pick up Dean's diary and John said he would get there as soon as he could.

After he had hung up, Bobby watched Dean sleeping. He sat down in the chair next to Dean's bed. He then grabbed a note pad and a piece of paper and started to do some quick calculations, he couldn't do them in his head like Dean could. If Dean took 120 needles a month times, 12 months in a year, he was looking at roughly 1440 injections in a single year. If he lived to be 80 and he was just about 17 now, that was about 90720 shots over the course of a life time, and that was just insulin alone. That didn't include glucose checks, or blood tests, or flu shots. He looked over at the young man and felt his admiration for the kid grow at just how little Dean complained about anything.

A thought began to grow in his mind. It would be dangerous, but looking at the figures in his hand, he didn't care. As soon as John showed up, he had a phone call to make.

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_BRRRINNNGGGG_

Sam glanced at the clock when the bell rang at the end of his history class. He was really worried about Dean. He hated it when his older brother appeared vulnerable. Heroes didn't get sick. His mind was not on his school work and he was so glad his math teacher hadn't given a pop quiz, he would have failed it for sure. In science, he had missed every easy question and in history, he had barely participated. He just wanted this day to end.

"Sam, can I see you for a moment?" he heard his history teacher call him.

"I'll meet you in French," Sam told Conner as he walked up to his teacher's desk. "You wanted to see me, Charlie?"

"Just wanted to make sure that everything was okay. This is the first time you haven't participated in class."

"I'm fine," Sam said.

"You sure? You can talk to me, Sam," Charlie offered.

"I guess I'm just worried about my brother. He's home sick."

"Not too serious I hope," Charlie said sincerely.

"Me too," Sam said wistfully.

"Okay, you can go. Tell your brother I hope he's feeling better soon."

"Thank you, I will," Sam said as he headed out the door and onto his French class. No sooner had he got settled and the teacher began the days lecture, when a knock at the door interrupted the class. It was an office messenger looking for Sam. Sam quickly grabbed his books and hightailed it to the office, to find his father waiting for him with the news that Bobby had taken Dean to the hospital. They drove home first to get Dean's diary and then went directly to the hospital.

Upon arrival at the hospital, John stopped at the admitting desk and got his son's room number. He and Sam made their way up there and found Dean still asleep. There were two IV lines running from a pole beside the bed and into Dean's left arm, John noted

"How is he, Bobby?" John asked in concern.

Bobby glanced quickly from Sam to John. "Sammy, can you go and get us some coffee?" John asked as he reached into his pocket for some bills. He'd noticed Bobby's look.

Sam instantly felt his temper flare up. He knew his dad was trying to get rid of him. "I'm not a little kid anymore. What's wrong with my brother?" he demanded.

Bobby sighed. He knew the only way to get Sam out of the room now was to use a stick of dynamite. "They're worried about his temperature. It's gone up to 101.7," Bobby admitted.

"He's going to be okay though, right?" Sam asked.

"He'll be fine, Sammy," John said with a conviction he didn't feel. "Wait here with Bobby. I'm going to go see if I can find his doctor."

"John," Bobby said as he laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You stay with your son. I'll go track him down," Bobby offered.

"Thanks," John said gratefully. He walked over to his son's bed and stroked Dean's forehead, instantly alarmed by the heat he could feel coming from it.

Sensing a new presence in the room, Dean forced himself to surface. "Hey dad," he said once he'd become fully aware, his voice hoarse from sleep. He looked around the room and also saw his brother. "Hey Sam," he added.

"Hey buddy, how're you doing?" John asked softly.

Dean, unsuccessfully tried to pull himself up to a sitting position. John reached out and pushed the button to raise the head of the bed. Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to ward off the dizzy spell and the nausea that suddenly struck when the bed moved. "When can I go ho ... I think I'm going to be sick," Dean said as stomach rebelled. John reacted instantly, grabbing the nearby basin and holding it next to Dean while he retched. When Dean was done, he collapsed back onto his pillow. John was glad that Bobby showed up with the doctor at that moment.

"He was sick again," was John's way of greeting the doctor.

"Dean," Dr. Conlan said addressing his patient. "I need to examine you, okay?"

"Go ahead," Dean said in a resigned tone, his eyes still closed. He was afraid to open them in case the room decided to go for a spin, or maybe the room was standing still and he was the one that was spinning. It was hard to tell.

He felt the tell tale prick of a glucose check, the cold metal of the stethoscope on his chest, the thermometer in his ear and finally the blood pressure cuff around his arm. Helen must have entered his room at some point because he could hear the doctor issuing orders to her. He groaned when he heard the instruction to set up another IV, he already had two. Just how sick was he?

John was glad when he heard the groan that escaped his eldest son's lips, he had been worried when Dean hadn't responded during the examination. He hated being poked and prodded and was usually quite vocal about the fact. He listened as the doctor ordered another IV for insulin. How sick was Dean? He just had the flu right?

"He's okay, right, Dr. Conlan?" Sam asked in a worried tone.

"I'll be fine, Sammy," Dean mumbled. He hated worrying his brother.

"John, can I speak with you for a moment?" Dr. Conlan requested and motioned for John to follow him out into the hallway.

Sam watched them leave and he was scared. Dr. Conlan hadn't answered his question.

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Out in the hallway, Dr. Conlan spoke to Bobby and John.

"I'm concerned about his temperature, it's gone up to 102. I'm going to order some blood work and a chest x-ray because I can hear some wheezing in his lungs. I would have to say at this point, though, that it seems likely that Dean has a chest infection, or is in the early stages of pneumonia."

"What about his diabetes?" Bobby asked. This all had to have an effect on it.

"It's going to complicate his treatment. With you and me, our bodies would adjust to the amount of food we were eating and produce the right amount of insulin. Dean's insulin comes from an outside source. We're going to have to try to make manual adjustments to his dosage and we'll have to balance it out with the amount of calories he ingests. It's really tough to regulate when we don't know if he's going to be able to keep food down, so we're going to give him his insulin through an IV. We'll also keep him on the fluids to try and keep his blood sugar up. "

"Why do I hear a 'but' in there?" Bobby asked.

"I think, given Dean's readings, we would be better off treating him with a nasal gastric tube. It would make it easier to keep up with his nutritional needs and increase his strength. He's going to need it to fight this," Dr. Conlan warned.

"Dean's going to love that," both John and Bobby said in unison and in identically sarcastic tones.

"I'll give it another day or so before we do that, but if he doesn't improve, I'm not going to have a choice."

"Thanks doc," they both said again.

After the conversation with the doctor, John went back into Dean's room and was glad to see his son's green eyes were open. The new IV had been added into the crook of the elbow on Dean's right arm. John hated to see how weak he looked.

"I have go make a quick phone call," Bobby called out to John. The conversation he had just had with the doctor was the final straw. "I'll be right back."

He wandered out into the hall and past the row of pay phones, heading right to the parking lot. He needed privacy for this call.

Bobby was a hunter, he knew about a lot of different things that doctors did not. He was aware of the reasons why John hadn't looked into a supernatural cure for Dean. It was true. They didn't come without a price, and this one did too, literally.

Bobby had been a hunter for a lot longer than John had. He had contacts that John didn't even know existed, both good and bad, and then there was the subject of Bobby's call.

He was known only as Dante. He was either good or bad, depending on who you asked, or who the highest bidder was.

Dante wasn't a hunter, but he knew about the supernatural world and he realized just how much profit there was to be made. Some of the trinkets they used to fight the creatures of the night were priceless. Daniel Elkins had an antique colt revolver that would be worth thousands to a collector, and hundreds of thousands to those who knew what it was really used for. If there was something you wanted, Dante would get it for you, for a price, and for a favour, and he was not a man you wanted to owe a favour to, but that wasn't the worst part.

Dante had no loyalty. He was all about the money. If you wanted something, he would get it for you and he really didn't care how. If you and he agreed on a certain price and then someone offered more, he would stop at nothing to get it back. That's where the favours came in.

Bobby preferred to pretend the man did not exist, but there was something he wanted and Dante was the only person who would even know where to find it, and he really didn't care if he had to go bankrupt to get it.

You couldn't just dial Dante's number and have him pick up though. There was a special way you had to do it.

He heard the phone ring 3 times. He hung up and let it ring twice more and hung up again. Then he called and after five rings, when the voice mail kicked in, he said it's me, and left his number. Dante would call him back in precisely 3 minutes. Sure enough, three minutes later, the phone rang. Bobby let it ring seven times and then said hello.

He let the other man know his request, Dante said that it was possible and named his price and set up a time to call Bobby back. Bobby agreed, there was no negotiating. He hung up and went back into the hospital.

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Later that day, Bobby dragged Sam, literally, out of the room and down to the cafeteria for something to eat. John was left sitting by Dean's beside when he heard someone enter the room. Dean had long since succumbed to sleep.

"Hi Mr. Winchester," Gray said as he knocked lightly on the door.

"Hi Gray, come on in," he invited the young man into the room. "How'd you know we were here?"

"I was planning on stopping by your house to see Dean after school and drop off his assignments, I got them from his teachers, but Sam called me about a half hour ago. I hope it's okay that I'm here," he said.

"I'm glad you stopped by and I know Dean would be glad to see you too, if he was awake," John said.

"He's alright, isn't he?" Gray asked worriedly.

"He should be," John said. He refused to believe anything else. "He has the flu and his diabetes makes treating him a little more difficult than it would for you and me," John explained.

"I guess it would," Gray agreed "If you want, I can pick Sam up after school and drive him here, that way you won't have to worry about him if you want to stay with Dean."

"Thanks, you don't know how much of a help that would be," John said gratefully. He was glad Dean had a real friend in this young man.

It wasn't long before Bobby and Sam came back to the room. They greeted Gray and John told them about the plans he and Gray had made. Sam and Bobby expressed their gratitude as well. It would certainly make things easier.

Dean woke shortly afterward. John noted that he seemed surprised that Gray had shown up to see him. Leaving Dean in Bobby, Sam and Gray's capable hands, John decided to run down to the cafeteria for something to eat. It was going to be a long night.

Gray left when they announced visiting hours were over and Bobby dragged a reluctant Sam home with him, as John was planning on spending the night with Dean.

"You can go home, dad," Dean offered.

"It's okay, buddy, Jim gave me the day off tomorrow."

"I'll be fine by myself, dad, promise. I'm not a little kid anymore, I don't need anyone holding my hand."

"Are you sure?" John asked. The prospect of sleeping in his own bed sounded awfully appealing.

"I'm sure," Dean said.

Dean's tone left John wondering if he was trying to convince himself or his father though. "How about I just stay until you fall asleep?" John offered a compromise.

"Kay, thanks dad," Dean said and closed his eyes.

It wasn't long before Dean fell into a deep sleep, so John got up and headed toward the door. He grabbed the other chair that was resting by it and brought it back over by Dean's bed, using it to prop his feet on. He pulled out his journal and started to make some notes. He'd never had any real intentions of going anywhere.

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Dean didn't show any improvement the following day, in fact, his temperature went up to 102.4. The chest x-ray showed what Dr. Conlan had feared, Dean was in the early stages of pneumonia. With his blood sugar still out of control, Dr. Conlan brought up the possibility of an NG tube. Dean protested fiercely, threatening to rip his IVs out and walk out the door, so Dr. Conlan said they would hold off until tomorrow, but if he didn't improve, he was going to order one.

The next day, Dean's temperature went up to 102.7 and the decision was made. Helen left his room and said that she would be back in a few minutes with the supplies. Dean begged his father to sign him out AMA and it broke John's heart to tell him that he couldn't. Before he could say something to try and offer comfort though, Helen returned.

"Have you ever had an NG tube before, Dean?" she asked him as she donned the latex gloves.

"No, and I'm not getting one now. I'll get better," he promised. They weren't sticking that thing up his nose.

"Dean, son, it's okay. They have to do this."

"Take me home, dad, please," Dean begged, sounding like a little boy and close to tears.

"This will only take a few minutes, Dean. I've done lots of these and I'm pretty good at it," Helen said trying to reassure the distraught young man.

"Then you can stick it..."

"Jonathan Dean," John said firmly. He would put up with a lot because Dean was sick, but he wouldn't tolerate rudeness under any circumstances.

"Sorry," Dean mumbled, but not sounding like he meant it.

"No worries," Helen said. She had been a nurse for 32 years and there was nothing a patient could say to her that she hadn't heard before. "Now, Dean, this won't hurt, but it is going to be uncomfortable. I know that this is easier said than done, but I need you to relax. The more tense you are, the worse it is."

"Dad, please," Dean tried to appeal to his father once more.

"It's for your own good," his father said, trying to keep his tone firm when he wanted nothing more than to salt and burn the plastic tube that Helen was unwrapping. She went to Dean's bed and raised it so that he was sitting up almost straight.

"Okay, Dean, step by step. I won't do anything to you unless you know what's happening. John, if you want to stay beside him, that's okay," Helen said gently, trying to put her young patient at ease.

John stepped up to the head of the bed and sat down next to his son. He put an arm over Dean's shoulder and looked toward Helen to make sure it was okay. She nodded slightly. He felt Dean lean into him like a life line. He could also feel his son trembling and he knew that it wasn't because Dean was cold, John could clearly feel the heat radiating off him. "Right here all the way, buddy," John said trying to offer his own comfort to Dean.

John watched as Helen held the thin plastic tube by the bridge of Dean's nose and brought it behind his ear. She marked that spot and then brought it half way down Dean's chest and made another mark. "I'm measuring how far to put the tube in," she explained.

She then began to coat the top with a lubricant. "Dean, I need you to tell me if you have any problems breathing. I know it's not easy, but you have to try and relax."

"Isn't there any other way? Can't you just stick another IV in me?" Dean asked, trying to come up with anything to stop this from happening.

"This is the best way to get you the proper nutrition that you need. It's only for a few days, until you get your strength back," Helen said, trying to reason with him. Helen stepped back over to him and tilted his head down. She then brought the tube towards Dean's left nostril. Dean immediately slammed him eyes shut and turned his head into his father's chest. He didn't want this, didn't anyone care about that?

"Dean, kiddo, they wouldn't be doing this if they didn't have to," John said as he gently moved Dean's head back into position so that the nurse could try again.

Once again, Helen began the insertion of the tube. Prepared this time, John kept a firm hand to hold Dean in place. With John's assistance, Helen got it part of the way in when Dean began to gag.

"Easy, buddy," John said.

"Dean, take some deep breaths," Helen said suggested.

"Take it out," Dean begged and he began to cough.

Helen stopped and pulled out the couple of inches she had inserted.

"Maybe we should sedate him," Helen said out loud.

"No, let's try again," John said. He had an idea, one that should work, but he felt like a complete bastard for even thinking about it.

Once again, John held Dean's head in place and Helen started to advance the tube. Both felt Dean tense up, they had gotten to the same spot that they had before and John took a deep breath and in his best drill sergeant's voice said, "Dean, relax, that's an order."

Instinct took over and Helen could feel Dean's resistance lower and she was able to advance the tube to the first mark. She stopped and asked Dean to open his mouth so that she could verify that the tube was in the right place so far. She was debating with herself as to whether to offer Dean water, or just have him mimic swallowing. The water made it easier to put the tube in, but if he threw up, they were going to have to do this all over again, something she wanted to avoid.

She, too, felt for the young man. She wanted to make this as easy as possible. "Dean, I need you to drink this," Helen said handing him a cup of water with a straw.

Dean knew it was a losing battle, so he accepted the cup and did as he was told and Helen quickly finished inserting the tube. When she was done, she once again checked the placement. She then taped the tube in place, picked up a full syringe, and attached it to the end of tube before slowly injecting the contents into Dean's stomach.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Helen said brightly. She flushed the tube with water and then clamped off and taped it to Dean's hospital gown so it wouldn't get displaced.

"Easy for you to say," Dean mumbled.

"Good job, Dean. I'm proud of you," John said as he pulled Dean into a hug.

Once he released him, John helped his eldest lay back against his pillow. His already broken heart shattered into a million more pieces when he saw how miserable Dean looked. John felt like a complete failure. Your kids weren't supposed to suffer. He was tempted to ask the nurse for his own NG tube, just so he could understand exactly what his son was going through.

"How long?" Dean mumbled. His eyes were starting to drift shut. He forced them open to hear his nurse's answer.

"Couple days, Dean. Then we'll see how you're doing," Helen said. "Don't fight sleep, rest and nutrition are just what you need to get better. I'll stop by to see how you're doing in a bit. If you need anything, just page me."

"Thank you," John said to her and Helen left the room with a smile.

John sat next to Dean's bed. "Does it hurt, son?" John inquired. He didn't want Dean to be in pain.

"No, just feels weird," Dean mumbled in reply.

"Get some rest, okay?" John requested in a gentle tone.

"Don' wanna," Dean said, his eyes closed again and he immediately forced them back open.

John knew that Dean needed a distraction so he picked up the bag that Sam had brought in. He knew that Sam had to have included a book in there and sure enough, he found a copy of The Outsiders by SE Hinton.

"Chapter one," he read out loud. "When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I had only two things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home."

Dean was sound asleep by the time John got to the end of the first chapter. He, like Bobby earlier, watched Dean sleep. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out why Dean had reacted the way he had to the feeding tube. Granted, Dean hated hospitals, but he was usually resigned to whatever they may have had to do to him.

John recalled a time years ago, when Dean had been thrown into a gravestone by a spirit. He'd ended up with a broken rib that had punctured his lung. He had sat with Dean while the doctor put in a chest tube and he still remembered the pain that Dean had experienced, it was 10 times worse then the NG tube, yet he clearly remembered Dean just laying there and trying not to show he was in pain.

He knew why his son was scared of hospitals, it was his fault, and suddenly a memory overcame John. He couldn't believe he had forgotten. Apparently, when he hadn't shown up the next day after leaving Dean in the hospital as a child, Dean had refused to eat. The nurse had told him that they'd had to put in the very same tube that Dean had now. This had to be bringing up memories his son didn't even know he had. John decided not to mention it. He would just concentrate on the here and now.

John went to put the book back when he noticed that the inside cover read property of Dean Winchester. This was Dean's book. John was surprised. He had figured that all his son read was what the school made the students read as part of the curriculum. He knew Dean was studying poetry, so it hadn't been assigned by his English teacher. The book looked like it had been read so many times that it was falling apart. John thought that even if he lived to be a hundred, Dean would never cease to amaze him.

Bored, John actually ended up reading a few chapters, trying to occupy himself. There was no TV in Dean's room and John knew he was going to have to rectify that situation soon. He looked at the clock and realized that he still had a good two hours before Sam got here. He was getting desperate for a cup of coffee, but he was afraid to leave in case Dean woke up. Despite his assurances, John didn't think that Dean was ready to be alone, especially with the NG tube in place. If Dean became agitated, it would be the first thing he yanked out.

"Coffee delivery," a voice called out.

John startled and looked up when he heard someone come into the room.

"Jefferson," John said in surprise.

"Hey John," Jefferson greeted and handed John the coffee. "I heard the kid was laid up and wanted to pay my respects."

"He's not dead, Jeff," John with a shudder.

Jefferson shrugged. "Certainly looks like death warmed over."

"Did you come to annoy me or is there a reason you're here?" John growled. He had no patience for this.

"Relax, old man, you'll give yourself a stroke. I just wanted to see how Dean was doing?" Jefferson admitted.

"He's holding his own," John said.

"That's good," Jefferson said sincerely. He may not be the most tactful person in the world, but he genuinely cared about John's boys.

"How'd you get in here? I didn't leave your name at the nurses' station as a visitor?" John asked curiously.

"Didn't ask," Jefferson said as he sat in the chair John had just vacated. "You'd be surprised the information some people will release if they think you're entitled to it. "Hey, I remember this," he said as he picked up the book John had left lying on the table. I gave it to Dean when he stayed with me that time. He loved this book."

"Loves Jeff, present tense."

"Yes, Mr. Winchester," Jefferson said as if he was talking to an English teacher.

John just shook his head, the man would never change. If you looked up contradiction in the dictionary, you would find Jefferson's picture. He was a good man though, and John owed him his life, in more ways than one.

He had first met Jefferson through Bobby. Like John, Bobby was Caleb's protégé, and Jefferson was Bobby's. The boys had been about eight and four and John had been working a job involving demons, it had been too big for one man to handle and he had recruited Bobby, who in turn had recruited Jefferson.

When John had first met the man, he had thought that Bobby was insane. Jefferson rarely thought before he spoke, he didn't listen to Bobby, and John had remarked on several occasions that Dean seemed more mature than he was. He thought for sure that they were going to get killed on this hunt. All Bobby had said was to trust him.

Then, on the hunt, John could have sworn that Jefferson had been replaced with a look-a-like. He was at the top of his game and knew his stuff inside and out. He made good suggestions and took orders when necessary.

The demons ended up getting the upper hand and he and Bobby had been knocked out. John wasn't sure what happened after that because he was unconscious, but the demons were never heard from again. John woke a week later in the hospital and Bobby had filled him in.

Apparently, he had been semi-conscious and had told the doctor about his boys being alone in a hotel room. The doctor had called social services, who took them into custody. Bobby, at that point, was still out of it so Jefferson had forged documents that gave him custody of the boys if anything ever happened to John. He then spent the week with them at Bobby's, making sure they were looked after. John shuddered at the thought of what could have happened if Jefferson hadn't been there. He could have lost his sons, a fate worse than death. He also shuddered to think of what had gone on that week. He made a mental note to ask Dean.

"Can I ask you a favour, Jeff?"

"Sure, John, anything," Jefferson said sincerely.

"Can you stay with Dean while I run to the cafeteria for a bite to eat?" John requested. He knew that Dean would be okay if he woke up and Jefferson was there. Dean really liked him.

"Sure, go ahead."

"You can't leave, Jefferson, not for any reason," John said seriously. "If he wakes up, tell him I'll be back soon."

"Okay, okay, don't get your panties in a twist. I'll park my behind here and not move until you get back," Jefferson said.

"Don't wake him either," John warned. He wouldn't put it past the man to wake Dean up if he was bored.

"Yes, mom, no waking, no leaving. Is there anything else you want to request, oh great leader?" he said sarcastically.

"I'll be back in 10," John said, ignoring Jefferson's sarcasm. He was getting his meal to go.

Dean awoke shortly after John left. He looked around and was surprised to see Jefferson there. He greeted the hunter and asked what he was here for. Jefferson said that he was here to see him, since he'd heard he wasn't feeling well.

Shortly after that, Sam showed up with Gray. There had been an assembly last class and they had cut out. Sam was worried about getting caught, but Gray had told him not to. If anyone asked, all they had to do was say that they had a special academic elite meeting and the teacher wouldn't ask any more questions.

Sam had been worried about Dean all day, so when he arrived at the hospital, he practically ran into his big brother's room and stopped short at the man sitting beside his brother.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked in a tone that indicated he wasn't happy to see the man and it left Gray wondering who he was.

"Nice to see you too, squirt," Jefferson said with a wry grin.

Sam did not like Jefferson. He had been the one to teach his father how to run credit card scams and insurance scams and ever since he had done that, they'd had to start moving twice as often.

"Don't call me that," Sam pouted.

"Your face is going to freeze that way," Jefferson teased.

"Shut up," Sam mumbled.

"I'm hurt, you know that." Jefferson looked up and saw that Sam was not alone. "Hi, Jefferson Michaels. I'm a family friend," he said and extended his hand to Gray.

"Gray Remington, I'm a friend of Dean's. We go to school together."

"Gray, huh, never heard that one before, let me guess, your parents were dyslexic, it was supposed to be Gary."

Gray wanted to groan. He'd heard that one a million times.

"Don't mind him," Dean said. "His parents dropped him on his head too many times as a baby."

"Yeah, that and my traumatic troubled childhood," Jefferson agreed.

"You didn't have a troubled childhood," Sam said.

"Yes, I did," Jefferson protested. "You see, my parents were dyslexic and as a kid, all my Christmas presents came from Satan."

"Hell's too good for you," Sam mumbled under his breath.

"I heard that," Jefferson said to Sam.

"You were meant to," Sam snapped back.

"Love you too, kid," Jefferson replied.

"Guys," Gray said trying to hold back a laugh. He kind of liked this guy. He just didn't think them getting to an argument would be good for Dean. He looked toward his friend as was suprised to see an amused grin on is face.

"You should have let them keep going. It's quite a show," Dean said.

"Hey Dean," Sam said going over to his brother and climbing up on the end of his bed. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Peachy," Dean replied.

"I can see that," Gray said. If anything, Dean looked worse than he had before and neither Sam nor Gray missed the feeding tube sticking out of Dean's left nostril, but both had the good sense to ignore it. Sam just hoped Jefferson did the same.

They all made small talk until John came back. He greeted Gray and joined in the conversation and Bobby entered a few minutes later. He saw Jefferson throw him a look that clearly meant I want to talk to you.

Helen came in to examine Dean and asked that his visitors leave for a few minutes. Dean put an iron grip on John's sleeve and Helen told John that he could stay if he wanted. Jefferson told Sam to take Gray to the cafeteria and get something to drink.

No sooner had they left than Jefferson hauled Bobby into an empty room.

"What do you think you're doing?" Bobby said trying to contain his anger.

"Me, what about you?" Jefferson said.

"What are you talking about?" Bobby asked in confusion.

"I keep my ear to the ground, Bobby, and Winchester's kid isn't the main reason I'm here. I heard you contacted Dante."

"That's none of your business," Bobby ground out.

"Nobody contacts Dante unless they're looking for trouble," Jefferson cautioned. "Bob, man, I know how important Dean is to you..."

"Stop it, Dean's the closest thing I'll ever have to a son, and this is my decision," Bobby interrupted. "I don't care if I have to deal with the devil himself."

"It would be preferable to dealing with Dante. Bobby, say he gets his hand on this thing, you do realize that you're making Dean a target?"

Bobby's next thought died on his lips, he really hadn't thought of it that way, but then the image of Dean lying in his hospital bed came bursting into his mind, along with the number 90720. "I'll deal with that later. This is my decision, stay out of it," Bobby said firmly.

"Where are you going to get the money?" Jefferson questioned reasonably.

"I'm working on it," was all Bobby would say.

Jefferson sighed. He knew it would do no good to try and change the man's mind. "Just promise me that you'll be careful. Remember that week when I looked after John's boys?"

Bobby nodded.

"Dean was worried about his father, sure, but the kid was also worried about you. He asked after you just as much as he did his dad."

That both surprised and pleased Bobby.

"You do know what it would do to him if something happened to you. So please, Bobby, really think about this. It may do more harm than good," Jefferson cautioned.

"I will," Bobby promised, but he knew that his mind was already made up.

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"Dean, leave it," John said as he pulled his son's hand away from the tube once more.

"It itches," Dean complained and tried to rub at the tape again. "Can I have some water?" he suddenly asked. It was getting hot in his room and he hoped some water would cool him down.

John looked toward Helen to make sure it was okay. "Just a bit and small sips only. Stop if you feel nauseated," Helen said and poured some water into a small glass.

John accepted the cup from Helen and held it up. Dean took a tentative sip and waited for a moment to make sure it wasn't going to reappear. He then finished off what was in the cup.

"Dad," Dean said as he shifted, trying to get comfortable. Stupid hospital beds were rock hard.

John watched Dean getting restless and really hoped he wasn't going to be sick. "What's up, Dean?" John asked.

"Can you get them to turn the heat down? It's too hot in here," Dean commented.

This caused John to frown. It wasn't hot. He reached over and put his hand to Dean's forehead and instantly became alarmed when he realized that Dean was burning up. "Helen, I think his temps up," John said worriedly.

Helen had been getting ready to give Dean his evening feed and replace his antibiotic with something stronger. She grabbed the thermometer and put it in Dean's ear as she reached over and pushed the call button. When it beeped, her concern grew.

"Damn it, it's spiked to 103.9." She reached over and pushed the call button once again.

"What's going on?" John said reacting in fear to Helen's own anxiety.

"I have to get Dr. Conlan. We're going to have to send Dean to the PICU," she explained, pronouncing it pick-you.

"The what?" John asked in confusion.

"Paediatric ICU. We have to get his temp down."

Dean, meanwhile, was growing increasingly restless. He was hot and uncomfortable and the thing up his nose was really bugging him, making it hard to breath. If he got rid of it, he might be able to breathe more easily. He kicked off his covers and his hand went towards his face.

John read the situation and reacted instantly. He grabbed Dean's hands and held them firmly. Dean tried to pull away, but he didn't have the strength.

"Dean," John said firmly. "You have leave this on." He pulled the covers up, while maintaining his grip with the other hand.

"Too...um...too hot," he wheezed. It was getting harder to breathe.

"Helen," John said worriedly.

Helen pulled the oxygen mask from behind the wall, turned it on and slipped it over Dean's mouth and nose.

"Dad," Dean said, sounding like a little boy, his voice muffled by the mask. "It hurts."

"Where, son?"

"My... mmmy chest."

"It's okay, buddy, just concentrate on my voice, okay? You know the drill."

Meanwhile, out in the hallway, Jefferson and Bobby finished their chat and Sam and Gray came back and they were just about to head into Dean's room when they saw Dr. Conlan come tearing down the hallway.

TBC

A/N: I do admit to playing fast and loose with medical facts for dramatic purposes.

Please read and review. It help feeds the muse.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything.

A/N: I would like to extend a super huge thank you to Soar, who was kind enough to beta this chapter before she left on vaction. Also adding thanks to Sinead-Conlon, for letting me bounce ideas off her. Please and and review.

Sam tried to get into Dean's room after he saw Dr. Conlan run in, but Bobby quickly grabbed him.

"Let me go," Sam protested fiercely, trying to struggle out of Bobby's grip.

"Sammy," Bobby said as he tightened his hold on the boy. "Let the doctor work, there's nothing you can do." Bobby was doing everything he could not to run in and see what was up with Dean himself, though.

"I can be there for him," Sam tried.

"Your dad's in their, squirt. He won't leave your brother alone," Jefferson tried reasoning with him.

"Shut up," Sam snapped at Jefferson.

"Bobby, do you think Dean is okay?" Gray asked in a worried tone.

"Dean's a fighter. I'd put my money on him," Bobby said forcibly.

Before anyone else could utter a word, they saw John emerge from Dean's room, followed by Helen and Dr. Conlan and they were wheeling Dean toward the elevator.

"Dad," Sam called.

"They have to take Dean to the PICU. It's on the next floor. Meet us there," John called over his shoulder as he followed the doctor and Dean into the elevator.

Of course, it didn't take them all long to get up to the next floor. They found John pacing in front of a set of double doors, running his hand through his hair in frustration. He looked up when he heard his family approach. "His temp spiked," John explained in a worried tone. "They wanted him here so they could monitor him more closely."

"I want to see him," Sam said, his voice wavering.

John knelt down to his son's level and looked him in the eye. "Sammy," he said, his tone as gentle as he could make it. "They have to get him settled, but Dean's a fighter, you know that."

"Cccann III sseee him thhhen?" Sam stuttered, fighting again the lump in his throat.

John's face bore an apologetic look. "You have to be 15 to get in," he tried to explain.

"What," Sam said in a horrified tone. He wanted to see his brother. He had to see his brother. "I have to see him, dad, please. I want to tell him I'm sorry," Sam begged.

"Sam, what are you talking about?" Bobby asked. He gave a quick glance to Gray, who shrugged in confusion.

"It's my fault," he cried. "I caused this." He couldn't take it anymore and he took off down the hallway.

"Sam," John called after his youngest. He gave a quick glance toward Bobby, silently asking if he would wait for the doctor. Bobby nodded and indicated that John should take off after Sam.

Gray was starting to feel a little out of place. He was worried about his friend, but he wasn't family so he really appreciated when Bobby spoke up. "I'm glad you're here. Dean's going to need the support of his friends and family to get through this."

"He will get through it though," Jefferson piped up. "He'll be back to flirting with the nurses in no time."

"Better not let him hear you say that," Gray said. "He and Kelsey seem pretty serious."

"Someone managed to tame Wildman Winchester? Well shut my mouth..."

"Please do," Bobby growled. "Or I swear to God, I'm making you sleep on the porch."

"Yes, sir, shutting up, sir," Jefferson said and waited until Bobby's back was turned and then saluted. "He's serious," Jefferson explained to Gray. "John pissed him off to no end once and he spent three days sleeping outside."

Gray chuckled despite the seriousness of the situation. He knew that sometimes it was the only thing that made it bearable. He looked at Bobby and Jefferson and though about Sam, Dean and their father. They may be an odd bunch, but he found himself wishing he had the same relationship with his own family.

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It wasn't hard for John to catch up with his youngest and he found Sam doing his best to keep the tears at bay. John didn't say anything at first, he just, knelt down, gathered Sam into his arms and pulled him into a tight hug. "It's okay, Sammy," John said softly as he lightly stroked Sam's hair. "I'm worried about Dean too, but it's Dean. He's going to beat this, Sam."

"But he shouldn't have to and if it wasn't for me, he wouldn't have too," Sam said sadly.

"Look, Sammy, why do you think this is your fault?" John asked in a gentle but firm tone. "I've told you both a million times, I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong."

"Dean did it for me," Sam said in a whisper.

"I'm going to need a little more clarification, kiddo. Now talk to me."

"The academic team. He joined for me. He knew you'd let me go if he was there to keep an eye on me. He hates being on the team, dad," Sam said in a distraught tone. "I didn't realize it at first. I thought he was trying to show me up and I got mad at him. Then Gray told me I was being stupid and that Dean was doing it for me, but even then I didn't quit. I didn't want to. I wanted to be on the team. Dean won't quit unless I do. If he wasn't on the team, his blood sugar wouldn't have gotten so screwed and he wouldn't have gotten sick," Sam rambled, each sentence coming out faster than the one before.

"Sammy, calm down," John said in his 'it's an order' voice. He was struck dumb by what Sam was saying. He admitted to himself that he had been surprised when Dean had told him that he was trying out for the team. He knew what Sam was saying was true, he wouldn't have let Sam go without Dean, and Dean would do anything for his younger brother. John found himself wishing he had caught on sooner. One thing was for sure, though. "Sam, its not your fault," John said firmly.

"It is," Sam insisted.

"Listen, Sammy, Dean was having problems with his blood sugar before he caught a cold. I was in close contact with his doctor and Dean was doing exactly what he should have. It's just one of those things, like Dean getting diabetes. Like I told your brother, this is something that no one can predict or prevent," John said, trying to reason with his youngest son.

"I want to see Dean," Sam insisted.

"Don't worry, kiddo, I promise I'll get you in," John vowed.

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For the next two days, Dean felt like he was existing in a fog. It was like he was half asleep and couldn't quite wake up. He could hear voices around him though. He heard Sammy, and he heard his dad, and his dad yelling at someone. He really hoped his father and his brother weren't fighting over him. He tried to tell them to knock if off, that he wasn't worth it, but they didn't seem to listen.

He knew there were various doctors and nurses around him, and he felt various things being shoved into different parts of his body. The worst was feeling the sensation of more NG tubes. He could have sworn that he felt it twice and he wondered where they could have possibly have put the third one. He really wished that he could protest, especially when it felt like they stuck something down his throat that tried to suck it out his lungs. It really hurt and made breathing tough.

Then, on the morning of the third day, he finally broke through the darkness and emerged from his dream like state.

"Dean," John said as he saw his son's green eyes peek through narrow slits.

"Wh...where am... where am I?" Dean asked somewhat disoriented, and his voice sounded muffled to his ears.

"You're in the PICU," John explained.

"You've been a sick, young man, Dean," a nurse Dean had never seen before said. "Your temperature spiked, but we've got it under control. You should be as good as new in a few days." She reached over and pressed the call button to page the doctor.

There was something on his face that Dean wanted to get rid of, so he tried to reach up and remove it and he felt a sense of panic overwhelm him when he realized that his hand was held fast.

"Easy there, kiddo," John said trying to calm Dean down.

"Take it off," Dean said as he looked down and saw a cuff around his wrist that strapped his arm to the bed. A quick glance at the other arm revealed the same thing. He pulled his arm and started yanking on the restraints, twisting his arms trying to get them free. "Take it off now," he demanded.

"Dean, calm down," John said as he reached over and released the first restraint holding Dean's wrist. When both restraints were finally removed, Dean's first move was to bring his hand up to his face and pull down the oxygen mask.

"Mr. Winchester, please," the nurse, whose name tag read Melissa, tried to reprimand John. "You should have waited for his doctor."

"You need to leave this on," John said firmly to his son, ignoring the nurse as he pulled the mask back on.

"This is why these need to stay on," Melissa said as she made a move toward the restraint.

"I only agreed while..."

"You let them tie me up?" Dean asked in a shocked and hurt tone as he continued to rub his wrists, as if checking to make sure that the restraints were really gone.

"No, son, I didn't want to, but you were so restless that you kept pulling on your NG tube. You managed to dislodge it twice," John explained.

That explained the two times he had felt it being put in. Good to know that he hadn't grown a third nostril he supposd. "It was making it hard to breathe," Dean said.

"The tube had nothing to do with it. It was hard to breathe because your lungs were filling with fluid. We had to suction them," Melissa lectured.

"Can you take this out now?" Dean asked fingering his feeding tube.

"No, and if you don't leave it alone, the restraints are going back on," the nurse threatened.

"Dad," Dean said and looked to his father. He was fully prepared to beg.

"Like hell you are," John growled. "I said only as long as he was unconscious and unaware, and right now, he's neither. You come anywhere near him without my permission and I swear to God you'll regret it."

"Okay, but he could hurt himself," the nurse warned.

"He'll be fine," John answered. "He won't touch anything, right, Dean?" John said pointedly.

Dean dropped the tube from his hand and looked sheepish. "I promise," he agreed. "Can I go home soon?" he asked changing the subject.

John and the nurse just shook their heads.

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Dean spent another full day in the PICU and he was glad when he was finally transferred back down to the regular floor. He felt like he was in a fish bowl with all the doctors and nurses poking and prodding him all day. He was still getting his insulin through an IV and he almost wished that he could go back to his needles because between blood work and glucose checks, he seemed to be getting stuck with sharp objects more than ever.

He was happy that he could have visitors again though. Gray came by regularly, as did Kelsey. She had been away with her school's volleyball team the few days before Dean had been admitted to the PICU. He was really shocked when his whole support group showed up to visit.

Best of all, his little brother was in to see him daily. His father had told him about having to smuggle Sam in and getting caught by Melissa, and that fact that he had almost bee barred himself.

Dean did wonder if he ever going to get his get out of jail free card. He still had the NG tube and was attached to an IV and his doctor had yet to put him back on his shots.

On the plus side, though, he was starting to feel a little more human. His father started making him try and get some school work done. He had been out for over a week and he was looking at another week minimum and he didn't think he would ever catch up.

With Dean out of the woods, John was also expected to report back to work. Bobby agreed to stay with Dean during the day, but warned John that he had to go out of town in a couple of days to take care of something. John thanked him for the heads up and said that he would work something out. He was contemplating letting Sam stay home, he preferred not to, but he didn't see that he had a choice. Then Sam reminded him of something that he had completely forgotten about.

Before Dean had gotten sick, Sam's history teacher told them about a school field trip. Sam was really excited until Charlie had told him that it was a two day trip. It was mandatory unless someone had a really good excuse and there would be an asigned project. Sam instantly deflated as he knew there was no way his father would let him go and this was something that Dean couldn't bail him out of, so the brothers conspired and invited Bobby to dinner. Sam brought up the subject during their dinner and John, of course, said no. Bobby told the boys that he and John would have a little chat. When they came back, they had worked out a compromise.

There was a spot on Sam's permission slip that you checked if you would like to be a parent chaperone, so Bobby had told John to volunteer. At first, Sam was horrified about his father joining him, until Bobby pointed out that there would be three vans going, and that John could volunteer to head one of the other groups, so he could keep an eye on Sam without hovering over his shoulder. Sam agreed and felt sorry for the kids in John's group. John promised he would behave.

John had been prepared to have Bobby stay with Dean for the two days that he would be gone until Dean pointed out, rather insulted, that he didn't need a babysitter. Bobby negociated a truce with John he agreed to let Dean stay on his own if he promised to follow his schedule and the only person allowed at the house while he was gone, was Gray. John also wanted to see every one of Dean's blood sugar readings when he got back. Dean agreed as he knew it was the best deal he was going to get.

Then Dean got sick, and John, in his worry had forgotten all about the planned excursion. With Sam's reminder John realized that Bobby was away on his errand, Jefferson left on a hunt, and Sam and John scheduled to depart the day after tomorrow, John had no one to stay with Dean.

"I don't have to go," Sam offered when he saw the anxious expressions on both his brother and father's faces. "I'm sure if I explain the situation to Charlie, he'd let me do a make up assignment."

"Explain what, Sammy?" Dean asked. "That your big brother is the world's biggest wimp?" Dean asked in an ashamed tone. He couldn't believe that his fear was going to ruin Sam's trip.

"Dean, stop it," John reprimanded. "I'm not going to let you put yourself down like that."

"Sam, I know you want to go," Dean said to his brother. "It's okay. I'm going to be as good as new in a few days, so you don't have to worry about me."

Sam wanted to point out that there was an easy solution. Charlie would understand that with a son in the hospital, John might not want to go on the trip. Charlie could maybe see if he could get someone else to fill in, then his dad could stay with Dean, but Sam knew that John would never go for it.

"I'll just tell Charlie that I can't go," Sam said once again and he tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He was worried about Dean, but he had really been looking forward to this trip. Of course, it went without saying that if Dean had still been in danger, he wouldn't have thought twice about giving his trip up. Truth be told, despite his protests, he was kind of looking forward to spending some time alone with his dad, not that he'd ever admit that.

"No, Sammy," Dean said. Ever since he had been diagnosed with diabetes, Sam seemed to be the one that got left out in the cold and it wasn't going to happen again. He_** was **_going on his trip. "You're going and so is Dad, just like you guys planned." Dean knew that Sam was secretly looking forward to the time away from Dean and his condition, and Dean didn't blame him one bit, as he would have like that too, but he didn't have that option.

"There's no one..."

"I know," Dean cut John off. "I'll be okay."

"By yourself?" John asked. He wanted to make sure that Dean knew what he was saying.

"I'm not a little kid anymore. I don't need someone to hold my hand. I have schoolwork to catch up on and Gray and Kelsey will be visiting after school so it's not like I'll be completely alone," Dean explained, trying to keep his tone convincing. He honestly wasn't sure about this.

"It's two days, son," John cautioned. "It's not just a quick run down to the cafeteria for coffee."

"I can do this," Dean said in a way that left both John and Sam wondering if he was talking to them or himself.

"Dean..." Sam started.

Dean knew what he was about to say. "No, Sammy, don't. You're not giving this up because of me. I won't let you."

"Are you sure, Dean?" Sam asked anyway.

"I can do this," Dean repeated once more, this time sounding a little more confident.

John looked at his eldest, trying to read Dean's face to see if he was lying, his eyes betrayed him every time. He could read the apprehension that was in Dean's eyes but he was surprised to see the determination in them as well. He decided to give Dean the benefit of the doubt.

"Alright, buddy," John agreed. "We aren't scheduled to leave until 10, so I'll spend the night here. That way, you only have one morning to get through." He knew his son's worst time was when he first woke up.

Dean wasn't really sure how to feel. Part of him had been hoping that his dad would say no. "Thanks, dad," Dean said, for both his dad agreeing to let him give this a try and for him staying one more night.

A little while later, John left Dean with Sam and went for something to eat, and he really hoped that he was making the right decision. He knew that Kelsey and Gray were planning on visiting that night and he would just ask one or both, discretely of course, to spend most of the evening with Dean. As long as Dean could get through the morning, he would be fine.

They were Winchesters, though, and had Winchester luck. When Gray and Kelsey showed up for their evening visit, John found out that Kelsey had to go to her grandparents house for dinner and the following night, she had promised Miranda that she would go see her play, so she wasn't going to be able visit. Gray informed him that his father was entertaining a big, potential new client who was staying at their house for two days and his father had volunteered him to entertain the man's daughter. He wasn't going to able to visit either.

John realized that Dean was going to be by himself for two days and one morning. It was almost enough to make John call off the whole thing. Dean put his foot down though, and told his father that he was determined to beat this, going so far as to threaten to walk out and take Sam on the trip himself.

John knew that there was no changing the mind of his eldest son and he spent the next day making preparations. He knew that the key was to keep Dean distracted and keep him from thinking about his situation, so he replaced Dean's walkman, as he knew that music was a big, calming influence on his son. He also brought him a copy of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. He knew that his son had a bit of a man crush on Jack Nicholson and thought that he might enjoy the book. He made sure that Dean had both a phone and TV in his room and he also included a few puzzle books. He then made a list of the school work he expected Dean to complete over the next couple of days.

The day of Sam and John's departure arrived swiftly.

"Last chance, Dean," John said, giving Dean a chance to change his mind. He had stayed at the hospital all night with Dean, and would be returning to their house to fetch Sam, but he wanted to double check with Dean first. All he had to do was say the word and John would stay.

"Go," Dean said in a soft voice. He really hoped that his father couldn't hear how fast his heart was beating. He tried, discretely, to take some deep, calming breaths and give himself a pep talk. He had been fine with his decision until this morning, it was a whole lot different now that day was actually here. It was time to put up or shut up.

"Okay, my cell will be on at all times. I'll call you when we stop and this evening. There are two rules I expect you to follow," John said. "Rule number one, you call me if you need me for anything, anything at all," John said firmly.

"I will," Dean promised.

"Rule two..."

"No yanking anything I'm hardwired to, no matter how I feel," Dean interrupted. "I won't," he agreed. _Or I'll try not to anyway. _

"Dean, you don't have to be all macho. Being a little nervous in a hospital is normal. If you start to feel overwhelmed, page your nurse and she can give you something."

"I can do this," Dean repeated. He had said that so many times over the past couple of days. It seemed to have become his new mantra.

John reached out and put his hand on Dean's shoulder. "I'm real proud of you, buddy," he said sincerely.

"Thanks, dad," Dean replied.

"I'll be in touch," John promised.

Dean watched his father walk out the door. He was now on his own.

_He__was on his own. _The reality of the situation came crashing down on Dean and he grabbed the side rails of his bed and leaned back on his pillow, taking some deep breaths to prevent himself from hyperventilating. He wanted desperately to call out after his father and ask him to come back. He opened his mouth to do just that and surprised himself when all that came out was, "I _**can**_ do this. I _**have**_ to do this."

_One step at a time. I need to distract myself. Don't think. Dad's just gone on a really long coffee run, a two day coffee run. Stop it,__Dean,__or you're not going to last five minutes._ He reached over and turned on the TV, flicking through the channels rapidly. There was never anything good on. He wished he'd had a VCR like Gray did in his room. Sighing, he grabbed him math textbook and flipped it open. He was so far behind.

Before he could get anywhere, Helen showed up for his morning check up. She wasn't sure what to expect when she arrived at her young patient's room. His father had given both her and Dr. Conlan a heads up on the situation. Neither liked it, given how Dean had reacted last time but there was nothing they could do it. Helen even went so far as to suggest restraints. John had immediately became angry and threatened legal action if they so much as mentioned the word in front of his son.

Helen quickly looked him over, checked his blood sugar and gave him his morning feeding. She was pleased with what she was seeing, Dean was showing a distinct improvement. She informed the young hunter, who immediately asked to have the NG tube removed. Helen gave him the standard answer and told him that she would be back to check on him later.

Dean watched her walk out of the room and returned to his task of occupying himself. He put his headphones on his head and popped in his Metallica tape. He had Gray's notes and he quickly read them over and opened his text book. He knew his dad would kill him if he caught him listening to music while working on homework. _Dad's not here, is he though. _Dean was surprised when this thought didn't instil fear. He just grinned and started to work on the math problems his father told him to complete. His natural ability quickly took over and he finished the required problems swiftly. When he was done, he glanced at his bedside clock. He realized that over an hour had gone by. He gave a small smile and allowed himself to feel the tiniest bit of pride.

_Don't get too confident, he tried to warn himself. _It had only been an hour and he was looking at the better part of two days.

He turned his tape over and grabbed his physics text. Gray had gotten the assignments from his teacher and Mr. Welsh had included a photocopy of someone else's notes. Dean re-wrote it in a way he liked it and completed the assignment. There was something about working with numbers that he enjoyed. They were concrete. There was one set of rules, one right answer and one wrong. He liked that when he compared it to the chaos of his life. When his physics homework was done he congratulated himself on getting through the second hour. Maybe he could do this. Then his phone rang.

"Hello," he answered.

_"Hey, Dean," a familiar voice said._

"Hey, Bobby," Dean greeted the elder hunter. "What's up?" He couldn't wait to tell Bobby about what he was doing.

_"My hunt's__going well. Sorry to leave with you in the hospital," Bobby explained. He had felt guilty because he had forgotten about the trip as well he realized that Sam was most likely missing it__but this was something he had to take care of before he met with Dante._

"That's good. We're going to have to hunt when I get sprung. It's been too long since I kicked some evil ass," Dean said.

_"Sure, kiddo. Is your daddy there I need to speak to him," Bobby requested. _

"He's not here," Dean explained.

_"He go for coffee?" Bobby asked in a strained tone. He really hoped that John hadn't left Dean alone. If he had,__they were going to have a long talk when he got back._

"No, he took Sammy on his field trip. I'm doing this solo," Dean said, allowing the pride he was feeling to enter his voice.

Bobby, being human and worried about Dean, missed it. _"He what?" Bobby said in disbelief._

"I told him I could do this. I need to get past this, Bobby," Dean tried to explain.

To Bobby, it sounded as if Dean was parroting his father's words. _"Are you okay, son?" and before Dean had a chance to answer, Bobby continued. "I'll call Caleb, he's on a hunt only a few hours away. He'd come if I asked him to."_

"No!" Dean snapped. He had made up his mind. He really wanted to do this on his own and he had been doing a good job so far.

_"I know you,__Dean. You need someone there. Who do you want me to call?" Bobby asked._

Even though Bobby couldn't see it, Dean frowned. Aside from his father and Sammy, there was no one that Dean loved and respected more than Bobby. Did Bobby really think he was that needy? If Bobby didn't think he was capable of getting through these next two days, maybe he couldn't. God, he was so stupid to even think he had a chance. Maybe he should let Bobby call Caleb, or better yet, his dad.

"Dean?" the young hunter heard Bobby call his name.

"Sorry, Bobby," Dean said and took a deep breath to try to calm his nerves. "No, you don't have to call Caleb. I can do this," Dean repeated his mantra, trying to convince both Bobby and himself.

Bobby really wanted to press the issue, but he had a meeting that he couldn't miss, so he reluctantly had to let this go. "Okay, I'll be home sometime tomorrow. You call if you need anything, _**anything**_, Dean," Bobby said firmly.

"'Kay, thanks Bobby. Be careful," Dean said and hung up the phone. The confidence he had built up in the last two hours, destroyed.

He felt the suffocating panic start to creep up again after he hung up the phone. It was followed by a very stong urge to grab things and start yanking them out. He looked at the phone in his hand and decided that he was going to call his dad and tell him he had failed. This was just too hard. He really hated himself, not just because he was letting his dad down, but his brother too. _You really are a waste of space you know that, Dean. _

Dean was just about to dial his father's cell when the phone rang.

"Hello," he greeted the caller.

_"Hey buddy, how's things?" John greeted his son._

Dean really wanted to sigh in relief at hearing his father's voice. Now he just had to make himself ask his dad to come home. "Hey, dad," Dean said falteringly as he tried to think of the best way to voice his request. He reached over and pressed the call button, he didn't want to ask Helen for a sedative, but if his dad was on the phone, he could ask for him and hopefully when he woke up his dad would be there.

John didn't miss the fact that Dean hadn't really answered his question and once again, he found himself questioning the wisdom of his decision. He could tell just by Dean's tone that he wanted him to be at his side. John steeled himself though. He knew that Dean wanted to prove this to himself and if he offered to come back, Dean was going to break. Of course, if he did actually ask, John was turning the van around_. "We're just on a bathroom break," he explained. _

"Bobby called," Dean said. "He said he'll call you when he gets back into town." _Wimp, just ask him. _

John had no doubt about that and it was a conversation that he wasn't looking forward to. "Sam's here beside me. He wants to say hi," John said and handed the phone to Sam. If anything could give Dean a pick me up, this could.

"Hi, Dean," Sam greeted his brother. "You okay?" he asked in genuine concern.

"Yeah, Sammy," Dean tried to instil confidence into his voice.

"I know you can do this, Dean," Sam encouraged as he read Dean's true tone. "I left something for you in the bag that dad dropped off. It's folded inside the cover of your book."

Dean reached over and grabbed the bag off his beside table. He grabbed the book and found a piece of construction paper inside it. He recognized it as a picture he had drawn when he was nine. Sammy had been going to school and leaving his big brother's side for the first time and he had been really scared.

Hating the fear in Sammy's eyes, Dean had used his limited artistic ability to draw the best angel he could and wrote Mom on the bottom of it. He stuck the drawing in Sam's backpack and told him that he didn't have to be afraid, that their mom was an angel up in heaven and she was watching over him and that he wasn't alone. He couldn't believe Sam still had it. "Thanks, Sammy," Dean said as he felt his eyes mist up.

"I figured you needed it more than I did. Now you're not alone, Dean. Mom's with you," Sam stopped and Dean could hear him shout 'coming'. "I better go, Charlie's calling our group."

"Have a good weekend, Sammy, and look out for dad, would you?"

"I will and I believe in you, Dean," Sam replied truthfully and the two brothers said goodbye. John got on the phone and echoed Sam's words and then he too said goodbye with a promise to call that evening.

Dean looked down at the drawing and felt his chest begin to loosen.

"You rang," Helen said as she entered the room. She had been expecting this and when the call button went off, she had figured that she was going to have to fight with Dean about putting his tubes back in. She had been surprised that he had made it this long. She was shocked by what she found though. Dean was lying in his bed with nothing removed.

"I um, I just wanted to ask…" he stammered, his grip on the picture tightening. "I'm sorry, hit the button by mistake."

"I'm pretty busy, Dean, please be more careful," Helen said disapprovingly.

"I will. I'm sorry," he said sincerely as Helen left his room.

Dean glanced down at the drawing in his hand. He reached around, being careful not to dislodge his IV, and put the picture under his pillow. He was still nervous and worried about his ability to make it through these next couple of days, but now he felt a small amount of hope that he could succeed. His mom was looking over him, but even more important than that, Sam believed in him.

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The rest of Dean's day passed fairly quickly. He wore out his first set of batteries while he did some more school work. Then he glanced at the book his father had left him and scooped it up. He found himself enjoying it and was soon caught up in the adventures of Nurse Ratchet and Randall McMurphy. He found that Nurse Ratchet reminded him of his social studies teacher. He found he frequently had to give himself pep talks throughout the day, but he was hanging in there. He just couldn't let himself think.

He sat through his check ups without protest, as they served as another distraction. His father called once more, and so did Gray and Kelsey. They didn't know just how much their phone calls helped and Dean was reluctant to hang up with both of them.

He did get some good news during his last check up of the day though. Dr. Conlan told Dean that things were looking really good and that he could be off the IV and feeding tube as early as the next day.

Dean refused to sleep that night so that he wouldn't have to wake up alone, which he acknowledge was going to be the hardest thing for him to get through. He was recovering from pneumonia and general fatigue and worry caught up with him eventually, and not being able to fight it any longer, he drifted off and slept the whole night through.

It was a crisp and cold day when the sun rose the next morning. Dean could feel the sunlight on his skin and he allowed himself to surface. He looked around to say good morning to his dad and stopped short when he realized that his dad wasn't sitting by his bed. He glanced toward the bathroom and saw that it was empty as well. Then he remembered. His dad was miles away and wouldn't be back until late this evening.

He immediately felt his heartbeat speed up and his breathing became ragged. He wanted his father and he was just going to have to go find him. Without even realizing it, Dean found his hand on the NG tube and he was just about to pull it out.

_**STOP! **_he scolded himself. He hadn't been abandoned or forgotten. He was the one that had told his father to take Sammy on his trip. He let go of the tube and, instead, grabbed the side rails of his bed, closed his eyes and forced himself to take several deep breaths, trying to bury the panic that once again was rising up and threatening to overwhelm him. _Don't be such a wuss. You've faced demons, poltergeists, and a bunch of other things that would have grown men screaming, this is just a day in bed, so suck it up. Although facing a demon would be preferable to this,__he thought._

That was how his doctor found him when he came in for Dean's morning check up. He had to admit that he was as surprised as Helen had been that Dean was coping so well, all he could think of was how badly Dean had reacted when he'd last woken up and his father wasn't there.

"Good morning, Dean," the doctor said brightly.

"Morning..."

"Before you ask, let me check your blood sugar," Dr. Conlan said cutting Dean off. He quickly completed Dean's examination and when he saw the results, he had some good news for his young patient. "How'd you like a chance to get rid of that?" he said pointing to Dean's feeding tube.

The relief at having the hated tube removed triumphed over the panic. Dean didn't answer his doctor, he just went to grab it. Dr. Conlan grabbed his hand.

"Hold up there, son. Let me do that okay," Dr. Conlan requested.

"Sorry," Dean said contritely.

"I'm going to send Helen in with some breakfast. If you eat it all and it stays down, I'll be back to take it out. If it comes back up, it stays in. Deal?" Doctor Conlan asked.

"Deal," Dean agreed.

Helen came in with Dean's breakfast tray and managed to eat it all and when it stayed down, Dr. Conlan returned.

Dean watched as Dr. Conlan put on the rubber gloves, took a syringe and injected a small amount of air into the tube.

"It's to flush out anything that might be in the tube," he explained. He then adjusted Dean's bed so that he was almost upright, put a pad across his chest and instructed him to hold the emesis basin. He put a hand on Dean's forehead and with the other, grabbed the tube and pinched it. "Deep breath," he instructed Dean. "Hold it until I say to let it out."

With practiced ease, Dr. Conlan removed the tube without incident. Dean let out the breath he had been holding and began to cough. He held the emesis basin in front of him while he gagged a few times, but fortunately, he didn't throw up.

His morning then consisted of more schoolwork, with his headphones on, reading, a little TV and more pep talks and reminders about the picture under his pillow. Helen came in when his IV was empty and didn't replace it, instead pulling the needle from the back of his hand. Dean ate his lunch and did his Latin translation. He didn't even need notes for that. He finished the book his dad had given him. He couldn't believe how much he'd enjoyed it. Maybe there was something to this reading thing he liked to tease Sammy about.

At supper time, Dr. Conlan came and checked on the young hunter and brought Dean a syringe and an insulin vial, telling him that he was going to start back on his own injections. Then there was supper and some more TV. The rest of the evening passed a lot quicker than Dean had thought it would. He talked his father and Sammy, and later to Kelsey, and then Gray gave him a call to say hi and to say that he wished he could trade places with his friend. He described the girl he was entertaining as a female Thayer. Dean laughed and agreed that his hospital bed sounded like a much better place to be. Dean fell asleep shortly after his final injection and evening snack. He was in such a sound sleep that he didn't even hear his father and brother come in.

Both Sam and John had been apprehensive as to what awaited them, but a calm and sleeping Dean was not it. Both figured that Dean had to have been sedated. John told Sam to stay with his brother and went to find his doctor.

"Hi, John," Dr. Conlan greeted his patient's father.

"Hi doc, how's my boy?" he asked.

"He's doing great. I'm sure you noticed we removed both the IV and NG tube."

"Yeah, I was just wondering if that was your decision or his?" John asked.

"Ours," Dr. Conlan said truthfully. "He had a few rough spots, but he did real good. We started him back on his injections this afternoon. If everything continues to look good, you'll be able to take him home in a couple of days."

"Thanks, doc," John said gratefully.

"No problem. I'm off now, but if you have any concerns, you can have me paged."

After Dr. Conlan left, John walked down the hall and back to Dean's room. Sam was sitting beside Dean's bed, reading his book. He filled Sam in on the conversation he'd had with Dean's doctor, and thinking it was time Sam knew the full story, told him why Dean hated hospitals so much. Sam just felt his admiration for his brother grow.

Dean felt a presence in the room and stirred, a couple of hours later, he saw his father sitting beside his bed and his brother asleep on a cot in the corner of his room. Dean's felt his pride grow as he grinned at his father. "I made it, dad,"

"Yeah, buddy, I knew you could. Did I ever tell you how proud of you I am? Now go back to sleep," John said in a gentle tone.

Dean didn't need to be told twice and he was back asleep in no time, the smile never leaving his face.

TBC

Because I'm not to proud to beg, please read and review.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Thanks you to Soar for the beta job and to Sinead Conlan for answering all my medical questions and allowing me to bounce ideas off her.

Disclaimer: Still don't own them

"Dean, just eat your damn dinner would you," John exclaimed, clearly exasperated.

"I think its alive," Dean replied and gave the green lump a poke with his plastic spoon and watched it jiggle.

"Dean," John warned.

"Aren't green beans supposed to be green? I mean, these are grey," Dean said as he held up the limp vegetable.

"Dean," John said again.

Dean wondered how his father managed to say so much with just the way he said his name. Dean could clearly tell that he was pushing it, and that he was down to his final warning. "Makes you wonder out of all the things they choose to make sugar free, why green jello would be one of them," he couldn't resist adding. "Dad, can we make that person the subject of our next hunt? I mean, he's obviously not human," Dean asked.

"No," John said, trying to be firm and keep from laughing out loud at the same time. If there was one food Dean despised, it was jello, and John found himself wishing for a camera when Helen had brought his son his dinner tray. He took one look at it and was about to tell his nurse that she'd made a mistake, until Helen informed him that the jello was sugar free. The look on his face was priceless. "Enough," John added.

"Want to trade, Sam?" Dean asked his brother as he eyed the bag of chips his brother had been munching on.

"I would, Dean, but I know how much you love your jello," Sam replied with a wicked grin.

"You're all heart," Dean mumbled under his breath and glared at the remaining food on his tray.

"Dean, didn't I say enough," John replied, letting a small amount of irritation in his tone.

"Yes, sir," Dean mumbled again and took a bite of his jello.

Both John and Sam had to work to keep from laughing out loud at the look on Dean's face while he finished his dinner.

It had been two days since John and Sam had returned from their trip. Dean continued to stay by himself during the day, and John and Sam spent the evenings with him until he fell asleep. Then John stopped by in the morning and was there when Dean woke up.

Dean still didn't like to be by himself, but he no longer felt the overwhelming, crippling fear he once had, except when he woke up on his own. He had to work to get past that and he really appreciated his father being there in the mornings. Although how exactly his father knew when to be there still baffled the young hunter. When he questioned his dad, all his father would say was, 'I'm your father.'

Dean's doctor showed up a couple of hours later for his routine check up. "Good evening, everyone," he greeted the small family.

They returned the greeting and Dean sat through an examination.

"Well, it looks like I have some good news for you. How'd you like to go home tomorrow?" Dr. Conlan asked Dean.

"Can I go now?" Dean immediately asked.

"Jonathan Dean, what did the doctor just tell you," John said, clearly indicating his eldest was in serious danger of getting on his last nerve.

"Tomorrow sounds good," Dean said in a falsely sincere tone.

Dr. Conlan bit his tongue to keep from laughing. It was good to hear his patient complain because that meant he was getting better. He informed Dean that he would be in at noon tomorrow and would sign his release papers then.

"Hey, Sam," John addressed his youngest after the doctor had left. "There's no school tomorrow on account of the parent/teacher conferences. Do you want to stay here with Dean tonight, and Dean, I know you don't need someone 24/7 anymore," John said nipping Dean's protest in the bud. "I just thought you two might like some time together and tomorrow, I'll come by afterward and sign you out, Dean."

"Thanks, dad," Sam replied. He would like to spend the extra time with his brother after all that had happened. They didn't see much of each other at school, being in different buildings, and with different friends, they didn't see a lot of each other afterwards either.

"Dr. Conlan said noon. You're not off until 6 tomorrow," was Dean's reply.

"Actually, it will probably be closer to eight. I have to meet with your teachers," John explained.

"I'm not staying here until then," Dean whined.

"Dean, there's nothing I can do, I have to work. I'll tell you what though, Bobby's supposed to be back tomorrow and I'll leave a form that gives him permission to sign you out if he gets here first."

"Fine," Dean huffed. "Thanks for agreeing to keep me company, Sammy."

"No problem, Dean," Sam said sincerely.

John left at the end of visiting hours and Sam and Dean worked on some schoolwork for a while. Dean opened his English book and tried to read one of the assigned poems, but after about three lines, he gave up, closed the book and tossed it to the end of his bed.

"Tell me all about your trip, Sammy?" he asked.

"It was great," Sam grinned. Sam had already filled Dean in on all the details of the museum, but he knew what Dean was really asking. _How did you and dad get along? _"When Bobby first suggested the idea, I thought it was horrible, I didn't want him hovering over my every move. I didn't see too much of him on the drive though, it was a good idea for dad to drive a different van. Then, at the museum, all the groups kind of drifted together. You should have seen dad, Dean, I almost didn't recognize him. We hit a display about a local South Dakota urban legend and dad had the entire group eating out of his hand. He was the most popular chaperone. I mean, if I had to describe it, dad acted like such a... ah... a dad," Sam said for lack of a better word. He looked up at his brother and was surprised by the wistful expression on Dean's face, like he was lost in the past, and Sam had to wonder if Dean was remembering their dad from before the fire.

Even though Sam couldn't remember that time, he couldn't help feeling the loss. Those two days had given him a glimpse of what their dad probably would have been like if they hadn't lost their mother.

Dean shook himself away from the memories. He didn't like thinking about that time. "It's strange isn't it, Sammy? If you told me a few months ago that dad would be going to a parent/teacher conference, I would have had you committed."

"I like this dad," Sam said softly.

"Me too," Dean muttered to himself.

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The next morning, John woke with the rising of the sun. He got breakfast, called the boys at the hospital, and then set out for work. He was working until four and then he was scheduled to see Sam's teachers first and then Dean's.

He had to admit, he had no idea what to expect, this was the first time he had ever been to one of these things. As he made his way to the junior high school after work, he found he was really looking forward to the meeting with Sam's history teacher. He had met him briefly on the trip, but hadn't had a chance to talk to him much. He had heard so much about him though.

He didn't have to wait long as it was the first meeting that John was scheduled for. He quickly located the classroom and knocked on the door. He couldn't help feeling like he was back in school though as he entered the room and walked up to the teacher seated behind the desk.

"Hi, Charlie," John addressed the teacher and they shook hands.

"Hello, Mr. Winchester, please have a seat," Charlie answered pleasantly.

"John, please," the eldest Winchester answered.

"John, thanks again for lending us your services. One of the hardest things is finding parent chaperones, most of them are too busy," Charlie said gratefully.

"I enjoyed it," John said sincerely. He really had.

"How's your other son doing?" Charlie inquired. "Sam said he was in the hospital."

"He's doing great. He's getting out today," John said, touched that the man had asked about Dean. John had a feeling that Sam talked a lot about his older brother.

"That's great news. Sam certainly seems to look up to him," Charlie said, confirming John's suspicions.

"They get along great, which makes my life easier," John replied dryly.

"I guess it would. Anyway John, Sam's a joy to have in my class. He's always one of the top participators. His scores are near perfect and his enthusiasm for learning is refreshing. There is only one thing that concerns me, though."

"What's that?" John asked trying to keep the suspicion out of his voice. He really hoped that Sam hadn't let anything slip.

"I try to keep assignment topics vague. One of my biggest pet peeves about assignments was that they never let me learn anything I was interested in, so when I decided to become a teacher, it was something I vowed to avoid whenever possible. Our latest assignment was titled 'find a piece of yourself in history.' Now, Sam's assignments are always turned in on time, and they are extremely well written and researched, except this one," Charlie said with concern and handed the booklet to John.

John felt his worry increase. He really hoped that Sam hadn't compared their history to some urban legend. He was completely floored when he opened the cover and found nothing, not one word was written on the paper. Sam had turned in a blank assignment.

"This isn't like Sam. He's my best student so I will give him a chance to re-do this, but I wanted to wait and discuss this with you. To find out what might be wrong."

John immediately felt the guilt start to creep up. Sam hadn't done this assignment because he didn't know anything about his history. He wouldn't have gone to Dean either. His eldest would have answered Sam's questions, but both Sam and John were aware of just how uncomfortable Dean was talking about their mom. He also knew that the few times Sam had questioned him, he answered about 2 or 3 questions and then told Sam that was enough and disappeared to the local watering hole to drown his sorrows.

"John," Charlie prompted when he didn't answer right away. Charlie was surprised by the look of sadness that John wore.

"I know why," John said softly. "I don't know if Sam told you that his mom died when he was a baby," he added swiftly.

"He did mention it and I'm sorry," Charlie said sincerely.

"It happened so suddenly. She died in a fire," John said with a shudder. "It was hard on all of us, and I'm afraid that we don't talk about Mary much. Sam knows this and he probably didn't want to ask. I'll talk to him when I get home and I promise his assignment will be turned in by Monday. Thank you for giving him a second chance."

"It's no problem. Sam's a terrific student and I'd hate to see an F on his record. Did I tell you about his comments when we talked about the Salem witch trials, you would have thought he knew a real witch," Charlie continued.

_If you only knew, John thought. _Five minutes later, John said goodbye to Charlie and walked down the hall to his next meeting. He vowed that he was going to have a long overdue talk with both his boys when he got home. They deserved it and more importantly, Mary deserved to have her boys know all about her. He didn't care what he had to do to get through it.

The meetings with Sam's other teachers were pretty much what John had expected. They all said how smart Sam was, what a joy he was to have as a student and how much they liked teaching such an enthusiastic pupil. Sam's math teacher also added that while math wasn't Sam's strongest subject, he appreciated the extra effort that Sam put in to make sure he kept up with the work. It was the meeting with Sam's debate teacher that stuck out in John's mind though.

Much like he had with the others, John greeted Ms. Dixon and introduced himself.

"It's sure a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Winchester. You must be very proud of your son."

"I am, and please call me John," he said sincerely.

"Sam's enthusiasm is what makes being a teacher worth it. He's a natural at debating," Ms. Dixon said.

_We've had a lot of practice, John thought to himself. _"Sam's always loved school," John replied out loud.

"Has he ever thought about becoming a lawyer? He would make a terrific litigator and if he keeps his grades up throughout the rest of school, he could get a scholarship to just about any university."

This, again, got John thinking. He knew his youngest was different from him and Dean, Dean had always wanted to join him on the hunt. He knew that Sam was a good hunter, he wasn't into it the way his father and brother were, but surely he wouldn't go off to college, he was going to join the family business. John didn't want his youngest out there unprotected and alone. There was still an unknown threat to their family, Sam in particular. Whatever had destroyed their lives that night had come after his youngest son.

Deep down, John wasn't sure that Sam didn't want to leave and go away to college though. When Bobby had first mentioned this school, he had been worried about how it would affect his eldest, but he hadn't really thought it would put dreams of college and career into his youngest. No, he decided, Sam would never leave his family, especially his big brother.

John tried to put what Ms. Dixon had said out of his mind as he made his way over to the high school building for the meeting with Dean's teachers. He wondered what they had to say.

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As he walked across the campus, he pulled out his cell phone and dialled the hospital. He found out that Bobby had already picked up Dean though. He called the house and Bobby assured him that both boys were fine and in the kitchen doing schoolwork. Bobby informed John that Dean's doctor had recommended keeping him home for the rest of the week to let him get his strength back. John was glad to have a time frame for Dean's teachers if they asked.

After hanging up on Bobby, John turned his attention back to the parent/teacher conferences John had to admit that he was looking forward to meeting Dean's social studies teacher. He'd often heard his eldest talk about how the teacher had it in for him and John wanted to see if Dean was exaggerating. Too bad he was the last teacher John was scheduled to meet with though. The first was Dean's English teacher. This was another meeting he wasn't looking forward to.

He introduced himself and took the offered seat.

"First, Mr. Winchester, how is Jonathan?" she asked sincerely. "I was sorry to hear he was ill."

"He's getting better Mrs. Kitchner," John said. He had to stop a minute and think, he wasn't used to Dean being referred to as Jonathan. It was also the first time he hadn't stopped and asked to be called John. He felt a need to be formal. "He's being released from the hospital today and he should be back to school next week."

"That is good news. I have a son, a 2 year old, and there is no greater feeling of helplessness than when Nathaniel gets sick," she offered.

John was kind of surprised from the way Dean had talked about her, you would have thought she was a cranky, bitter, old woman. She actually seemed quite pleasant. "I agree," John said.

"I know my nickname around here, battle axe Becky. It keeps the students on their toes," she explained. She was used to the reaction she got from John.

"I imagine it would," John said. _Great vocabulary skills there,__John. _

"Now, Mr. Winchester, to the business at hand. I have to say that I am concerned. Jonathan will have missed almost three weeks and he was struggling to keep up before hand. He's a smart boy, but things of late have me a bit troubled."

"Why's that?" John asked.

"When the semester first started, Jonathan made an attempt to keep up, but as the class progressed, he seemed to have stopped trying. His grades are getting worse and if he doesn't apply himself really hard, he's going to fail the class this semester. I don't know if his illness had anything to do with it, but the fact remains that there is no effort on your son's part," she said gravely.

John hadn't realized that things had gotten so bad with this class. He resolved to pay closer attention. "I'll speak with him, Ms. Kitchner."

"He needs to focus and I'm sure he'll do fine," she replied.

"Thank you," John said.

After speaking with Dean's English teacher, he met with the gym, history and health studies teachers, and they were pretty much carbon copies of each other. They all inquired as to Dean's health and were relieved to hear that he was going to be back in school soon. They all mentioned that Dean was doing well in their classes and that with a little extra effort, he would have no problem catching up. His auto shop teacher was really impressed with Dean's skills, and after finding out how Dean was doing, they spent most of the interview discussing the Impala. His Latin teacher commented on how much of a natural Dean was and how fast he seemed to pick up new material. John had to hold back a grin and stop himself from telling her that Dean was probably more fluent in the language than she was.

He checked his schedule and saw that he was supposed to meet with Dean's math and physics teachers next. They had apparently requested to see him together and John was wondering why.

Upon entering the classroom, he took care of the introductions, and for the 6th time that day, he found himself answering questions on Dean's health status. He was impressed that they all cared so much.

"I'll start," Dean's math teacher said. "Mr. Winchester, I'm sure you're wondering why we wanted this to be a joint meeting. The truth is, we want to ask you something."

"What's that?" John asked in a curious tone.

"I'm sure you're aware that Dean possesses unlimited ability in the area of math and physics?" Mr. Welch, Dean's physics teacher, said.

John knew his son was strong in the two subjects, but the words unlimited ability were new to him. "I'll admit, John," Mr. Jeter said. "That the first day Dean was in my class, I had my doubts. He spent the whole class staring out the window. My way of dealing with a student when they are not paying attention is to put them on the spot. Every time I ask him a question though, he comes up with the right answer. I feel that Dean is bored in his current class, so what I want to do is switch him to a more advanced math class. The only problem with that would be that we would have to rearrange his whole schedule, except for his last period."

"I also run an advanced physics class. The courses we want to offer your son are invitation only. They are not available to the student population. Most of the students in them are planning a career in the sciences and these classes can give them a boost. I feel that Dean will excel in this program. He had the highest grades in the class and I wonder what he could do if he actually applied himself," Mr Welsh said.

Awe was the only way to describe how John was feeling. He could barely add two plus two without a calculator and here were these two teachers talking about how they felt his son would thrive in advanced math and physics.

"Has your son given any thought to college?" Eric asked.

"I'm... ah... I'm not sure, why?" he stammered. Dean wasn't going to college.

"Tell him to consider MIT. He'd have a real shot at getting in," Eric offered.

A short time later, the meeting wrapped up. He was still dumbstruck as he made his way down the hall towards Dean's social studies classroom. He was also feeling a pang of regret. His boys were geniuses, both of them. Sam's teachers all felt he could get into any college that he applied to, and Dean's teachers felt that he could go to MIT. Neither was a small feat. What might have been had darkness not invaded their lives?

He gave a light knock on the door to William Wright's classroom door and he was roughly asked to come in and have a seat.

"I'm John Winchester, Dean's father," John said.

"I don't think I have a Dean in my class," the man said in a tone that caused John to dislike him immediately.

John resisted the urge to sigh. "John Winchester Jr," he said slowly as if speaking to a five year old.

"Ah, yes, Jonathan. I hope he'll be back soon. He's missed far too much time already," Mr. Wright said in a way that sounded as if Dean were missing time on purpose.

"He'll be back on Monday, and he's doing much better," John couldn't resist adding.

"Well I hope he comes back with an improved attitude. He barely participates in my class," Mr. Wright said gruffly.

_No wonder, thought John, and he's not the one that needs the attitude adjustment. _"I'll speak to him," John said tensely, even though he had no intention of doing so. He didn't think Dean was the one at fault here.

"That's good. Nobody gets a free ride here. We all have to work hard."

"My son does," John said defensively. "He works harder than you can possibly imagine."

_Yeah right, _was the first thing that went through the teacher's mind. All the brats he taught at this school were going through life on a free ride, being spoon fed with Daddy's money. He'd worked his way through college, supporting himself with three jobs. Those that were here simply because they were lucky enough to have someone work for the school didn't appreciate it either. He'd heard on earful about Jonathan Winchester Jr, from the headmaster and he was determined to knock the kid down a peg. "I'm sure," he said in a tone that clearly indicated he didn't believe John. "I don't really have anything more to say. Here are some assignments for Jonathan, see that he completes them by Monday," he said and handed John a thick folder.

_Asshole!. _"Don't worry, Dean will," John said confidently and walked out of the room. He understood just what Dean had been telling him.

He put the whole incident with Dean's social studies teacher behind him and focused on the positive. He couldn't wait to get home and see his boys.

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Pulling into the driveway of his home, John shut off the Impala's engine, gathered the bags of takeout he had picked up and headed toward the house. He had to admit he was a little apprehensive about facing Bobby. He had a feeling that Bobby wanted to share his opinion of Dean being left alone at the hospital.

He unlocked the door and called out to his sons. He heard Sam yell from the living room, and Dean echo his brother from the down the hall. John guessed that Dean was using the phone in his father's room and was talking to Kelsey.

"Dinner in 10," John said as he laid the take out bags on the counter in the kitchen.

"Hey, Johnny, how did things go?" Bobby inquired as he entered the kitchen and got plates out of the cupboard.

"Well, I have to say that Dean wasn't exaggerating about his social studies teacher. The guy's a jerk."

"Want me to have a little chat with him?" Bobby offered, his temper instantly flaring.

"When Dean graduates next year, he's all yours," John promised.

"I'm holding you to it," Bobby replied.

"Um, Bobby, about last week," John said. He might as well get this over with.

Bobby held up his hand. "It's okay, Johnny. I was plenty mad when I got back into town, but your sons set me straight. I got to hand it to that boy of yours, I'm real proud of him," Bobby said affectionately.

"Me too, and after today, I'm the proudest father on the planet. Want to join us for dinner? I got plenty," John said.

"I have to now. I want to hear what Sam and Dean's teachers had to say."

John grinned and called his sons to supper.

"Real food," Dean exclaimed excitedly.

"It's just take out," Sam said.

"After hospital food and tube feedings, I don't care if it's cardboard," Dean said as he bit into his grilled chicken and shovelled a forkful of mashed potatoes in his mouth.

"Hey, Dean, chew would you," Sam teased.

John realized just how much he had missed this. "Boys, we need to have a talk," he said seriously.

Sam and Dean had both been curious about what their teachers had to say about them.

"First of all, I want to say that my meetings with your teacher were mostly positive, with a few exceptions, but right now, I want to dwell on the positive. Sammy, your teachers gave you glowing recommendations. They seem to feel that you'll do well in whatever you try and that they would all recommend you for advanced classes when you get to high school. Dean, the most interesting thing came from your math and physics teacher. They want to switch you into the advanced classes after Christmas. They seem to think you're bored in your current ones."

Dean couldn't believe it. Gray was in the advanced math and science programs. He would be in Gray's math class. That would be a plus. "But what about the fact that I missed a lot of time?" Dean asked.

"They didn't even mention it. It wouldn't be until the next semester, so you have plenty of time to catch up. Think hard okay, because it requires a commitment. You won't be able to skate by."

Dean looked sheepishly at his father. He hadn't really put any effort into his math and physics class. "I will," he said sincerely.

For reasons he didn't understand, John didn't mention MIT or Sam's debate teacher telling him about being a lawyer. He didn't want to put ideas in his sons' heads. He wanted to keep them close, keep them safe.

"Now, unfortunately there were a few things we need to address," John said trying to force the guilt down. "Dean, can you tell my why your English teacher feels you're not trying?"

Dean looked down at his hands, trying to come up with some excuse. He realized he had none. "It's too hard. I study and study and I never get anywhere, nothing ever makes sense," Dean tried to explain. "Sometimes it's just easier to move on and let it go," he said honestly.

"That's a quitter's way of thinking, Jonathan Dean. If we can't find a reason behind a haunting, are we just going to let it go and move onto the next hunt?" John asked him.

"No, sir," Dean said in an ashamed tone. He knew his father was right.

"Now, you're going back to school on Monday, you're not officially grounded, but I want you to spend most of your time working on your English and your social studies homework. I want to see a progress report on your English every day, until you can prove to me that you're trying."

"Yes, sir," Dean said. So much for planning a date with Kelsey that weekend. "Dad, I am trying with social studies though, I promise."

"I know," John confirmed. "But I want you to do better just so you can stick it to that as... um, so that your teacher doesn't have a right to complain about you.

Sam and Dean just stared at their father. They couldn't believe that he just said that.

"And Sammy, what's with you turning in a blank assignment?" John asked his youngest.

"_**You?" **_Dean said in disbelief. "That sounds like something I'd do."

"I um, I um, it was a dumb assignment and I didn't feel like doing it okay?" Sam snapped.

"Who are you and what did you do with Sammy?" Dean asked his brother.

"Shut up, jerk."

"Make me, bitch."

"Enough," John said firmly.

"Sorry, sir," Sam and Dean said in unison.

"Sammy?" John said looking for an explanation. "Charlie told me what the assignment was on."

"Then you know why I didn't do it," Sam said and crossed his arms defiantly.

"Can someone fill me in?" Dean asked in a confused tone.

"Find a piece of yourself in history," Sam said. "How can I do that when I don't know my history," he added in a huff.

That silenced the next words Dean had been about to say. The subject of their mother was taboo.

"I'm sorry that I made you feel that you couldn't come to me with this, Sammy. It's my fault, so for that reason, I'm not going to punish you."

"Thanks, dad," Sam replied sincerely.

"You are going to do the assignment, however."

"How," Sam asked.

"I'm going to tell you everything you need to know," John replied, which caused another look of disbelief among his sons.

Bobby, who had been sitting silently, decided it was time to go. This was something John and the boys had needed for a long time and he felt that this was something the three of them needed to do together. "Boys, I'm real proud of both of you. I'll see you on Sunday for dinner." He gave each boy a quick hug and started for the door.

"Bobby, you don't have to go," John offered.

"I know, but you need to do this with your boys. I'm real proud of you too, Johnny," Bobby said.

It meant a lot coming from his friend. "Thanks, Bobby."

John returned to the kitchen. "I guess the best thing would be to start at the beginning," John said wanting to keep things neutral at first. This was going to be hard enough. John could see Sam sit up, and he saw Dean start to fidget.

"My great grandparents came over here from England. They had nothing but a few cents and the clothes on their backs. They worked hard, though, and eventually built a thriving business. They had two kids, my grandfather, Dean, and my great aunt, Sarah.

"Is that where Dean's name came from?" Sam asked.

"Yup, and I was really close to him. He married my grandmother, Michelle, and they had my father, Arthur. He married my mother, Patricia and they had me," John said with a grin.

"Are we related to _the_ Winchesters, dad? You know the ones that make the rifles?"

"I doubt it, Sammy," John said. "There's no direct link. If we are, it's by a distant relative."

"What about Mom's side of the family? Do we have any aunts or uncles?" Now that John was talking, Sam wanted to know everything.

"No, Sammy. I was an only child and... and your mom had a brother that died from crib death when he was just a couple of months old."

Sam knew that his father wanted to get off that subject so he asked, "What about mom, dad, where was she from?" Sam inquired. He had a ton of questions and he wanted his dad to keep talking.

"Scotland," John said. "Her last name was Mor..ga...Morgan." He tried to keep his voice from wavering.

"Dad, we don't have to do this," Sam said. He knew this was hard on his dad. He hadn't failed to notice that his brother had gone silent as well.

"No, Sam, it's time you knew. Just give me a minute," John replied. He took a few deep breaths. He desperately wanted a shot of whiskey, but he knew that if he started, it wasn't going to stop at one glass.

"Dad," Dean said. "I'm going to my room. I ah... I want to start my English homework," Dean said looking for an excuse to escape. He got up from the table.

"Freeze, Dean. You need to hear this too," John said firmly. "Sit back down."

Dean knew that it would do no good to argue so he reluctantly took his seat again.

"As I was saying, your mom's maiden name was Morgan. I really don't know a ton about her history, but your grandparents are Campbell and Alexandra Morgan."

John told the boys the story of how he had met Mary and fallen in love with her. He told them all about their wedding and their early days and how they had struggled to make ends meet. John even relayed a couple of stories about his time in 'Nam, which was another subject that he didn't like to talk about. The only thing he left out was that his parents had disowned him for going out with Mary. They didn't need to know that. It was rough at first, but John found the more he talked, the easier it got. When he was done, he felt closer to his sons than he'd had in a long time.

"Dad, where did my name come from?" Sam wanted to know.

"Your mother wanted your names to mean something. You were named after your mother's brother. His name was Samuel. Francis is a name that was in her family somewhere. I honestly forget where it came from, though."

"What about our grandparents, dad?" Sam asked. He didn't want his dad to stop.

"They aren't with us anymore, Sammy, I'm sorry."

Sam couldn't help but feel a sense of loss about that, even though he'd never known them.

"What about my diabetes?"

John took a moment to realize that the question had come from Dean. He had been completely silent up until then. He was glad that his eldest had decided to participate though. "What about it, son?" John questioned.

"After I was diagnosed, Dr. Doyle said it runs in families. Did anyone else in our family have it?"

John had to think for a moment. "Come to think of it, my mom had gestational diabetes when she was pregnant with me."

"Is that why I have it?" Dean wanted to know.

"It could be. I don't think medical science has a definite answer as to why anyone has it though."

"Could I get it?" Sam piped in.

"I don't know, Sammy. You have a higher than average chance of developing it because it's in our family and your brother has it, but there's no way to predict whether or not you'll get it."

"You're not, Sammy," Dean said firmly as if he could keep diabetes away from his brother by sheer force of will.

"Any other questions?" John asked.

Sam kept asking and John kept answering. Dean didn't say anything else, but John was pleased to see that he was listening.

"Did mom like junk food, dad?" Sam questioned.

"Yeah, Sam, she had a large sweet tooth. Sugared cereal was her favourite, she loved fruit loops," John answered.

"Lucky Charms," Dean said forcibly.

"Same thing," John said dismissively.

"No they're not," Dean ground out instantly. "You remember, right? You have to remember," he added, sounding hurt.

John couldn't believe the change that had just come over Dean. He looked as hurt as he sounded and he was growing more agitated by the second. He was just about to order his son to calm down when all of a sudden, a memory made itself know.

On November 2, that fateful night, there had been an electrical storm that had knocked out the power in the early evening. The family had bundled up and sat in the living room, munching on bowls of Lucky Charms for dinner. It had been the only thing in the house that didn't require cooking. Even six month old Sammy had munched on a few marshmallows. Then a couple of hours later, the power came back on and John decided to take a quick run down town to make sure his business was okay. He had returned just as Mary was putting the boys to bed. He still remembered tucking Dean in that night.

John realized that was why the cereal was so important to Dean. He wasn't sneaking it because he was breaking his diet, but because he it was the last thing that the four of them had done together, as a family.

"I can't believe I almost forgot that," John said. He then filled Sam in.

"That must be why we like Lucky Charms so much," Sam stated.

"Yup, breakfast of champions. It getting late though, so let's all have a bowl before we turn in. Dean, you can have some too, okay buddy, just not too much."

"Thanks, dad," Dean said gratefully.

Dean excused himself to take his last injection of the day and John poured them each a bowl of cereal.

"To mom," Sam softly said as he ate.

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Later that night, Sam thought about his project and knew what he was going to do it on. He decided to write a report on the immigrants who first came to this country. They had come with nothing, yet they had persevered and made it, together. It kind of reminded him of his family. He finished it, thanked Charlie for giving him a second chance, and handed it in. He got an A.

A/N Please read and review. It helps feed the muse.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Disclaimer - Still don't own,

A/N : Sorry this took so long, real life has been crazy this past month. Once again thank you to Soar for the awesome beta job, and Sinead-Conlan and JuliaAurelia for their feedback on this chapter. I hope you enjoy.

_Insulin, meter, syringes, lancets, test strips, glucose tablets, Dean thought as he listed the items in his injection kit. _It was the first time in weeks that he'd had to put it together and he wanted to make sure that he didn't forget anything.

Dean's father had kept him at home for the remainder of last week, and the Winchesters were soon reminded that they went to a school that had money when a tutor was sent out to work with him. Dean had spent the time trying to catch up and when the weekend rolled around, he was just about there. Reluctantly, Dean had to call Kelsey and ask her to postpone their date because of it. His father wouldn't have let him go anyway. Kelsey said that she understood, but Dean was left wondering if she did. Her tone had sounded a little cold, but he was determined to make it up to her.

"Dean, you ready?" he heard his father call from down the hallway.

"Just about," Dean called back and rechecked his kit once again. Satisfied that he had everything, he zipped it shut and met his dad by the doorway. "What's the rush?" he asked curiously.

"Your headmaster wants to see us this morning," John answered.

Dean wondered just how long his father had been sitting on that knowledge and he groaned. The guy had it in for him and whatever this was about, it couldn't be good.

"It won't be that bad, kiddo," John said trying to convince both his son and himself.

"Yeah, he just wants to welcome me back with open arms and tell me he's glad I'm all better," Dean said sarcastically.

"Dean," John started and then stopped. "Never mind, let's go. We don't want to be late."

"Are you worried that Headmaster Webber will give you a detention, dad?" Sam asked coming up behind his father.

"Just get in the car, both of you," John sighed as his sons erupted in laughter. John had to admit, though, he had missed his boys teasing him. It had been too close this time.

"Can I drive, dad?" Dean asked. It had been a while since he had been behind the wheel.

"After school, okay? I'm working late anyway," John replied and followed his sons out the door.

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Dr. Richard Webber sat behind his desk, going over the folder of Jonathan Winchester Jr. He had to admit that he was surprised. He had thought for sure that he would have been able to expel him by the end of the first week, but here it was, almost the end of the semester, and not only had the boy only received three detentions for minor infractions, but there was also a recommendation to join the advanced program.

Before he could really think about it anymore, his secretary buzzed and informed him that the Winchesters were there. He thanked her and asked her to send them in.

"Please have a seat," Dr. Webber said and pointed to a bench in front of his desk.

Both father and son regarded the headmaster. John felt that Sam's comment wasn't too far off the mark. He felt like he was back in his old principal's office.

"Jonathan," Dr. Webber started, forgoing any pleasantries. "You've missed a good deal of time, you're currently over the 10 days per semester policy."

John could see his son slump next to him and he felt his hands wanting to curl up into fists. If this guy tried to kick his son out of school for something he had no control over, well he wasn't going to be held accountable for his actions.

"It's not his fault," John said, trying to sound polite so as not to cause Dean any more trouble.

"Let me finish," Dr. Webber admonished with a frown. "I was going to say that due to extenuating circumstances, we won't take any further action, but you will be required to report to the resource room after school on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays to continue working with a tutor until you catch up."

"I'm almost caught up from last week," Dean tried. He knew, though, that he was fighting a losing battle. Between his English and social studies teachers, he was going to be there until he graduated. "How long?" he asked in a defeated tone.

"Until I receive confirmation from all your teachers that you are caught up in the work," Dr. Webber replied. "Don't even think about skipping. If I receive word that you're not showing up, I will have cause to suspend you."

_You'd just love that, wouldn't you, you smug bastard, John thought bitterly. _

"What time do I have to be there?" Dean asked.

"You are to report directly after your last class, and Jonathan, lateness will not be tolerated any more than absenteeism."

"What about my snack?" Dean asked. He usually had to have one after he got home from school. "There's no eating in the library."

"Excuses will not be tol..."

"_**Excuse me**_," John interrupted. "He's not trying to get out of it. He's diabetic and it's a valid concern."

"I'll see that you're given permission to eat in the resource room," Dr. Webber conceded. "Now Jonathan, you better run along to your classes. You don't want to be late and fall even further behind. I have the right to suspend or expel you if you fail to meet the academic requirements."

"Yes sir," Dean said and he left the office, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

John rose off the bench as well, trying, once again, to control his temper. His hands had managed to curl themselves up into fists, despite John's best effort to stop them. The headmaster's last comment as Dean had left the office had him seeing red and the vein in his forehead started to pulse as John's anger grew. Dean had done everything that was asked of him and more. Add all this together and John couldn't take it anymore, something inside him snapped and he turned back to the headmaster. Right now, he really didn't care if he got fired.

"You can't stand it, can you?" John snapped, letting the anger he was feeling slip into his tone.

Richard looked up. He'd dealt with irate parents before, but never one that looked downright homicidal.

"I beg your pardon," he said in a trying not to let his nervousness show.

"My son, you can't stand the fact that you were wrong about him, can you? You told him to get good grades, he's been recommended for advanced classes and makes the academic team. You tell him not to start fights and he makes friends."

"Mr. Winchester, your son is in danger of failing English," Richard pointed out.

"Of course, that's the only thing you mentioned. I've spoken with him about that. What about his accomplishments in his other classes? He's pulling almost straight As," John ground out, defending his son. He was tired of this guy trying to put Dean down, especially when his son had done nothing to deserve it. "Why don't you cut him some slack? What more does he have to do?"

"Good day, Mr. Winchester," Richard said, dismissing John. "I will keep my eye on Jonathan's progress."

John walked over to the door and opened it. "One more thing," he said over his shoulder. "His name is Dean." He left, resisting the urge to slam the door on his way out. What he had done weighed heavily on him as he walked across campus to report to work. He just hoped that he hadn't made things worse for his son.

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Dean was really nervous as he walked toward his building. He wasn't really sure what to expect. Would it be like the last time, at his old high school?

"Hey, Dean," Gray shouted as he saw his friend walking up the steps.

"Hey, Gray," Dean said with a grin.

"Glad you're back, man," Gray said sincerely.

"Thanks," Dean replied. He still couldn't believe that Gray had been waiting for him.

"Just in time, exams are coming up in a couple of weeks. Who else am I going to cheat off," Gray teased.

"Crusher?" Dean teased back. Herman, or Crusher as he preferred to be called, was the star linebacker on the football team. His grades had to be the worst in the whole school. Gray had told him that Crusher was a wringer and that the administration over looked his academic record because of it.

"Maybe just English," Gray said with a smile and ducked the punch Dean pretended to throw at him. He realized just how much he had missed his friend. "You get the Dr. Dick lecture? I missed 9 days after having my tonsils out when I was in grade 9."

"Yeah," Dean ground out. "Resource room from now until I graduate."

"I wouldn't bet on it. Mr. Jeter and Mr. Welsh love you and you can't work on auto shop or gym in the library so I say you'll have their okay by the end of today. You're more fluent in Latin than the teacher, so I don't see her okay coming any later than Wednesday. History and health studies, I'm pretty sure you'll have that by Friday."

"What about English and social studies?" Dean said.

"Just show Battle Axe Becky that you're really trying and as for Mr. Wright, well there's an academic elite competition next Friday, and since Lincoln kicked our butts in the math category, I guarantee you that the team's star 'mathlete' will be in his seat at the competition."

"I hope you're right," Dean said wishing he had Gray's confidence in himself.

Over the next couple of weeks, Dean began to wonder if his friend was psychic. The okays from his teachers happened exactly as Gray had predicted. His English teacher even called him back after class and told him that she could really see the extra effort he was putting in and told him to keep it up.

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Dean came home from school in a good mood because he no longer had extra tutoring. His father had taken Sammy to the mall to finish his Christmas shopping and to pick up Dean's perscriptions, so Dean had chosen to stay home because it wasn't often that he got the place to himself. He had just finished his homework and was about to call Kelsey when the phone beat him to the punch.

_Ring Ring,_

_"_Hello," Dean said as he answered the phone.

_"Good afternoon, Dean m'boy. How's it going?"_

"Hey, Pastor Jim," Dean returned the greeting. "It's all good."

_"Good to hear that, son. I'm just calling to see when you guys are coming up this year."_

Dean grinned. As far back as he could remember from life after the fire, they had always spent Christmas with the pastor. "I'm not sure. Exams are coming up in about a week's time and then we're on winter break."

_"Make sure your__dad calls me so we can make arrangements. Now, how's school going?"_

"It's fine. Did you know that I was asked to join the advanced math and physics program?" Dean asked proudly.

_"Your__dad mentioned it," Jim confirmed. "When do you start?"_

"If I decide to join, it would be after Christmas."

_Even though Dean couldn't see it, Dean's statement caused the pastor__to frown. "What do you mean 'if', son?" Jim asked. If John had been discouraging the boy..._

"It's way more work than I have now and it's not like I'm going to college or anything. I wanna be a hunter, like dad. Josh said I can still hunt," Dean replied. He really wanted to go, but these days, there never seemed to be enough time. A hunt meant cancelling on Kelsey again and he really didn't want to do that.

_"You're still young,__Dean. You don't have to make that decision right away and you can go to college and hunt at the same time. I did it, Bobby did it, and Joshua even managed to get through medical school. You're a smart boy, Dean. You can do whatever you put your mind to."_

"Thanks, Pastor Jim." Dean said softly, blushing at the compliment. "What did you get me for Christmas?" he asked changing the subject.

Pastor Jim recognized the tactic and decided to let Dean get away with it. If he pushed, he knew that Dean would find a way to end the conversation.

_"What makes you think I got you anything?" Jim said teasingly._

"'Cause I'm your favourite 16 year old," Dean stated confidently.

_"Don't worry, I got your lump of coal."_

"You're all heart."

_"I try. Tell your__father to give me a call when he gets home would you," Jim asked. _

"I will. Talk to you later."

They said their goodbyes and Dean finally got a chance to call Kelsey, promising that he would take her out that weekend.

He was still on the phone with her when John got home. He heard his son talk about a special weekend and he indicated for Dean to wrap it up as it was a school night. He knew that he needed to take both Pastor Jim and Bobby's advice and have a talk with him. He decided that it was now or never.

"Dean, Sam, front and center." He wasn't doing this twice.

"Yeah, Dad?" Sam said.

"Sit," John said. "I have to talk to you."

"What's up, dad?" Dean asked.

"Okay, you're both growing up and um, well, I guess you've been noticing certain changes," John said awkwardly. He couldn't believe he was doing this.

Sam and Dean shared a glance, each silently communicating the same thought. _What the hell is he talking about?_

"It's ah... well, um, it's like this... When parents have kids, they can, ah, have a girl or a boy," he finally managed to get out. _God,__how did you do this?_

"Thanks for the advice, dad. I didn't know that," Dean said mockingly and pretended to write it down. "Is that all you wanted to tell us?"

"No," John replied and stopped again. _Where's a poltergeist when you needed one? _"Now listen. I'm only going to say this once," John said and stopped once more.

"What dad?" Sam asked when five minutes had passed and John had yet to speak again. He turned to his older brother, their silent communication working once again. _Is he trying to say what I think he's trying to say?_

"Those boys and girls meet each other," John blurted out. "And they feel things..." He knew immediately this was the wrong way to phrase it.

"Like their ..." Dean started with a wicked grin on his face.

"_**Jonathan Dean!"**_ John ground out. He really didn't want to know what his son had been about to say.

Sam couldn't stop the laughter that came out of him. Sam had never seen his father like this. He couldn't believe how nervous his dad was. He was always so confident and self assured. Dean hid his laughter behind a cough.

"Enough, both of you, or you're doing push ups until bed time," John demanded, falling back on his old habit of issuing orders. His threat fell on deaf ears, however. Sam and Dean continued to be amused by their father's discomfort. "Boys, I mean it," he tried again. It didn't work and it wasn't long before a big belly laugh erupted out of him.

When the three of them had finally calmed down, John decided to try again.

"Alright, boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy and girl develop feelings for each other," John said. _That's it Johnny, keep it simple. _

"Boy and girl..."

_**"Samuel Francis... not you too!" **_John cut his youngest son off. He had been hanging around Dean too much. It was another 10 minutes before John could get things back under control. His sons were not making this easy for him.

"I'm too young for grandkids," John said trying a new tactic. _Straight and to the point. I should have done this from the start. _"Use a condom," he added firmly. _That wasn't so bad. _He silently congratulated himself on getting through this and he rose from his seat. He really needed a beer.

Sam and Dean couldn't remember a time when they'd had this much fun with their dad. He had tortured them plenty of times with drills, now it was their turn and neither wanted to see it end. They gave a silent nod and Sam put on his most innocent face and called his father. "Hey, dad."

"Yeah, Sammy?" John asked.

"What's a condom?" he asked convincingly.

John grabbed his beer and turned back to his sons. It was going to be a long night.

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"Alright class," Mr. Dockerty, the auto shop teacher, said to his students. "Exams start next week as you know." He paused and allowed the students to groan. "We're not going to write a test." He paused again for the cheer. "We are going to write a report." Another groan. "I want you to visit a working garage and write an essay on how to run one. It will be due the day your exam is scheduled. Just one more thing. I know that you're busy studying and getting ready for your holidays, so I'm making it a group assignment and please no more than 1000 words. I don't want to spend my vacation grading 20 page essays. Get out of here. I'll see you tomorrow." He got another cheer.

"Hey, Dean," George said. "Your uncle owns a salvage yard. Can we go there?"

"I'll call him," Dean answered. He knew Bobby would have no problem with it. He would just need time to make sure there where no objects around that prying eyes shouldn't see.

"Thanks," Neil said. "This assignment should be easy. 250 words each."

"Yeah," Ben agreed. "I can't wait for the end of exams."

"Me too," Dean agreed. "I'll call Bobby tonight and get back to you guys tomorrow, okay?"

They all agreed and headed their separate ways. Dean called Bobby when he got home and as Dean had predicted, Bobby was all for the visit and they arranged it for the next day.

After their last class the next day, they headed toward the student parking lot. George's brother was in town and had borrowed his car so Dean had offered to give him a ride. When they got to the parking lot, Ben and Neil eyed the Impala. "Hey, George, do you want to drive my car?" they both asked at the same time. They each wanted a chance to go for a ride in the classic.

Dean looked at George and they both rolled their eyes. "Are your cars allowed to stay in the parking lot?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, because of after school activities," Neil said.

"If you guys want a ride, you can leave your cars here and I'll drop you off afterward," Dean offered.

"Thanks, man," Ben said. "Can I drive?" he asked.

Dean didn't answer. He just gave him a 'yeah right' expression and got behind the wheel.

"Shotgun," Neil claimed and got in beside Dean, leaving George and Ben to climb in the back.

It was a short trip to Bobby's place and upon arrival, Dean introduced his group to Bobby who took all the boys to the garage. He couldn't really invite them up to his house as he really didn't want to explain the devil's trap on the ceiling, there was no door to close off the living room and it was in plain view.

Fortunately, Bobby's garage was fully heated. He knew about Dean's dietary needs and invited the boys into the office for a snack before going into the garage. They were soon seated at his cleaned off desk, eating the pizza Bobby had ordered.

"Christmas vacation is coming up soon," Neil said excitedly. "You know what that means?"

"Aaron Bochner's party," George said, excitement coloring his tone as well.

"I've heard so much about it," Ben added. "It sounds like a blast."

"Are you going, Dean?" George asked.

Dean shrugged. He still didn't like crowds. "Gray invited me," Dean confirmed. He couldn't believe that even his normally quiet friend seemed to be looking forward to it.

"You should come, Dean. It's so much fun," Neil added. "Aaron's parents go to Europe and they have a private estate, so we don't have to worry about making too much noise."

"I'll have to think about it," Dean said. If there were no parents around, Dean was sure that the alcohol would be flowing freely. He doubted his dad would even let him go and for once, he was glad about it.

Ben tried to keep the frown off his face. Dean had to go. They had their whole prank planned around it. He, Cody and Jamie had been discussing just how to invite Dean without sounding suspicious, so he had been relieved to hear that Gray had already extended the invitation. Now they just had to make sure he attended.

Bobby could clearly tell that Dean was becoming uncomfortable so he quickly intervened. "Come on, I'll take you guys on a tour of the garage. Then we'll take a quick tour of the salvage yard."

"Cool, thanks man," George said.

"Bobby, can I ask where your washroom is?" Ben asked.

"It's right through there," he said pointing to a door. "Just meet us in the garage when you're done."

Ben used the facilities and when he came out, he accidentally knocked a book off the table. He bent over to pick it up, when he noticed the title. _The Complete Séance. _Ben flipped through it. It looked really old and seemed to be a step by step guide of how to properly do a séance. It would be perfect for their prank.

Ben's idea was to tell a story about some kid that killed himself because he didn't get into the college of his choice. Then Cody was going to suggest that they try to contact this guy's spirit. They hadn't wanted to tell too many people about it. They didn't want Dean or Gray getting wind of it, but there had been no choice but to tell Aaron since it was his party and they needed his help to pull it off. Aaron had agreed saying he was always up for a 'proper welcome.'

They were going to hold the fake séance, have someone dress up as the ghost and scare the crap out of Dean. Aaron had even agreed to play the part of the spirit. He'd seen this done once before and it had worked like a charm.

Ben was a rich kid and he could afford to buy just about anything he wanted, but he preferred to amuse himself and acquire all of his possessions using a five finger discount. He hadn't been caught yet, so when he realized that this book would help add an element of realism to their plan, he slipped it into his backpack without a second thought and left to go join the rest of them in the garage. He couldn't wait to show it to Cody and Jamie.

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The rest of the week passed quickly. Exams came and went and both Winchester boys did really well, Dean even passed English. Sam, it went without saying, got straight As. They gathered the things they would need for the trip to Blue Earth and were soon ready to be off to spend Christmas with Pastor Jim. They had one extra stop to make before they could hit the road, though.

They pulled up at a fancy mansion and waited for a lone figure to come out and hop in the back of the car beside Dean.

"Thanks for inviting me, Mr. Winchester," Gray said sincerely.

"No problem, Gray," John replied genuinely.

Gray had been over at the Winchesters for dinner when John had asked what he was doing for Christmas, Gray had replied that he was just hanging out. His father had landed his big client and he and his mother had been invited to spend the holiday at their villa in Spain. No kids allowed. His brother was spending the day at his girlfriend's house, and his sister had been invited to go skiing with her friends.

John had done something very uncharacteristic. He had excused himself and made a phone call. He came back 20 minutes later and extended the invitation to Gray to join them in Blue Earth for the holiday. Gray had accepted eagerly.

John didn't know why he had done it, and he couldn't explain it if you had asked, but the young man had earned something that John hadn't given out in a very long time, his trust.

Gray had enjoyed the trip with Sam, Dean and their father all teasing each other. He compared it to his own family trips, all two of them. They had travelled in a limousine. His father would be on the phone, his mother would be lost in the society pages and his brother and sister would spend the entire time bitching that they'd rather be at their friend's houses.

They arrived at the pastor's home late in the evening. Gray took in the house. It was a little bigger than his friend's house and it had been decorated in red and green lights. There was also a nativity scene out front that was tastefully done. There were window decorations of reindeers and Santas. It looked very friendly and inviting.

The inside was even more homely. There was a fire place that held a burning fire. The room was beautifully decorated with a large, undecorated Christmas tree in the corner. Dean had explained that the pastor left it until they got there because little Sammy had pitched a fit that he hadn't gotten to help one year. Sam had called Dean a jerk and told him to shut up and then said he remembered a time when Dean had almost burned the Christmas tree down. Dean called Sam a bitch and told him to shut up. Gray and John just laughed and John told Gray more embarrassing stories. Dean warned his father that if he didn't stop, he was going to tell Gray everything that had happened the year before. Gray knew he was going to grill his friend later because John shut up immediately.

The pastor had greeted them all with open arms, as did Molly, Jim's house keeper. Dean had also warned Gray that the woman was like a mother hen, so he wasn't surprised when she hugged him as well. Despite his protests, Gray could clearly tell that Dean enjoyed the attention.

Christmas morning arrived swiftly. They woke up early for breakfast and Dean went to the bathroom to take his meds. He glanced at the syringe in his hand.

While Dean was in the bathroom, his father happened to walk by and could see his eldest son standing there.

"Dean, is something wrong?" John asked with concern.

"What? Ah, no dad. I'm fine," he insisted.

"You sure?" John repeated.

"Yeah, dad. I swear, my blood sugar's fine." He held up his meter as proof. "It's just that, it's Christmas. It would just be nice if I could go one day without having to take this," he said indicating his needle.

"I know, buddy," John said gently to his son. "I wish I could tell you it's okay to skip it, even just this one time, but..."

"I'd just feel like crap later, which is worse," Dean finished. He sighed and injected his meds, recapped the needle and put it in the sharps container he'd noticed Pastor Jim had made sure to supply.

"Come on, kiddo," John said. "We better get to breakfast."

"I hope Pastor Jim made those homemade waffles. They're the best."

The small group went to church and afterward gathered around the tree to open their gifts.

Gray had to admit that he was surprised when he was handed four gifts. Sam, Jim and John had both gotten him the same thing, a gift certificate from the book store. Gray didn't mind, he loved to read. He laughed at Dean's gift of the latest Metallica tape. His friend was trying to convince him that classic rock was the only way to go. His favourite present was the second part of Dean's gift. Dean had wanted to give him a gift that meant something, and not having much money he picked up a cheap frame and stuck a picture of him and Gray in it. Then he'd had it engraved with the word 'friends'. He blushed when Gray opened it, but Gray said that he loved it and that he couldn't wait for Dean to open his gift.

Pastor Jim was equally pleased with his gifts. John had brought him, for some reason Gray couldn't figure out, a teddy bear. There must have been some meaning behind it because Pastor Jim just smiled. Sam and Dean had given him a framed set of school pictures. Gray had a feeling this was also another tradition. Gray had given Pastor Jim a fancy engraved box, telling him he could keep his bible in it. He'd been unsure of what to get him, and had gotten the idea from an old Little House on the Prairie episode. The fact that it was his favourite show was a deep dark secret. It was his turn to blush when Jim told him he loved Little House as well and thanked him for the box, saying he did indeed have a bible he wanted to put in it.

It had been John's turn next. John had received a book from Pastor Jim. Gray hadn't seen the title though but he could tell that John was happy with it. Sam and Dean pooled their money and had gotten him new hunting knife. Gray, knowing that John liked to cook, had gotten him a complete set of professional cookware. John laughed, thanked him, and asked if that was a hint.

Sammy insisted on going next. Pastor Jim had given him a book as well. Gray again thought it was strange by how excited he was to receive a book called _Vince Field's Classification of Demons. _It didn't seem like it would be very exciting to read and the whole thing was in Latin. Gray and Sam had been thinking alike and he got him a bookstore gift certificate. John had gotten Sam a hardcover, leather, bound copy of the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. Sam took one look at it and hugged his father. Dean had completed the set with an identically bound copy of The Hobbit. Sam hugged his brother as well.

Dean went last. He loved the silver bullet keychain that Jim had given him. Again, it left Gray wondering if there was some significance behind it. He equally adored Gray's present, a hardcover copy The Outsiders and fancy a scientific calculator for his new classes and he had also given Dean a framed photo of the two of them, with the words 'best friends' engraved on it.

"Great minds think alike," he said to his friend.

Feeling like his emotions were getting the best of him, Dean excused himself, saying that he needed to use the washroom. He returned 5 minutes later, his mask back in place, his feelings forced down as he finished opening his gifts.

John was glad that he finally had a camera close by when Dean opened his gift. John had known that Dean had always wanted a leather jacket, all the hunters Dean looked up to wore them. He'd actually found one in a second hand shop and it was still a little more than John could afford, but his son deserved it. It was old and battered and too big for the middle Winchester, but Dean didn't care, he loved it.

One of the things Gray liked most about his friend was the way he seemed to enjoy all the simple things in life. So, of course, it was no surprise that Dean's favourite gift had come from his brother. Sam had given his brother a package that contained three plain, leather bracelets. Sam explained that they were called brother bands and that Dean was supposed to wear two as the older brother and Sam wore one. Dean told Sam he would never take them off. He liked them even more when he realized that they covered a great deal of the medic alert bracelet that Dean was still forced to wear.

After the gifts were exchanged, they all went with Jim on his rounds to deliver gifts and dinners to the shut-ins and others who were down on their luck. It gave Gray a new perspective and made him realize just how lucky he was.

After that, they went back to the pastor's house for a small lunch and just hung out until supper.

For supper, they gathered around the dining table, hungrily gazing at the generous spread. Dean appreciated the fact that Pastor Jim had taken the time to make sure the meal was appropriate for him. The only thing he couldn't eat was the gravy. Jim said grace and they all finally dug into the traditional meal.

"Pastor Jim," Gray said. "I just want to thank you again for the invitation."

"It's my pleasure, son," Jim said warmly. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."

"It's been great," Gray said genuinely. To Gray, this was the best Christmas he'd ever had. It was nice to be sitting around enjoying a home cooked meal. As a kid, he had never believed in Santa Claus. It was hard to after your father told you to fax your Christmas list to his accountant. Christmas dinner was a professionally catered affair that was usually eaten in the kitchen with his brother and sister, while his parents entertained guests in the dining room.

There was an awkward moment when John stopped Dean from having thirds, because his daily calories were supposed to be limited. Dean tried to protest and it looked for a second that there might be an argument until Pastor Jim intervened. He told Dean that he needed to save room for dessert, that Molly had made her home made apple sauce cake before she had left to spend Christmas at her son's. Dean sulked that that didn't do him much good, he wasn't supposed to eat cake, but Pastor Jim had informed him that Molly had used a special diabetic recipe for him. Dean immediately asked for some and John allowed him to have a tiny scoop of ice cream. Gray decided that the cake was the best thing he had ever tasted.

After dinner, the boys were assigned the task of washing up. They watched a little TV and then later in the evening, they all met in the living room and listened to Pastor Jim read Christmas stories. Gray at first thought that they were all a little too old to be read to, but he held his tongue. He was a guest after all. Despite that, he soon found himself intrigued as Pastor Jim had a way of making the story come to life.

"God bless us, everyone," Jim said as he finished reading the end of _A Christmas Carol_. He looked up and saw that Sam was sound asleep on the couch, and Dean and Gray were looking tired. He laid the book aside and not having the heart to disturb Sam, he covered him with a blanket and sent the two older boys to bed.

Offering a token protest, they did as they were told and climbed the stairs to the room they were currently residing in. The boys climbed into bed and despite how tired they were, neither was ready for the day to end so they didn't go to sleep and spent some time making small talk.

Neither realized just how long they had been speaking when John stuck his head in a couple of hours later and told them to knock it off and go to sleep. They both settled down and about half an hour later, Gray addressed his friend.

"Hey, Dean, you asleep?" Gray asked.

Dean rolled over. "No," he admitted.

"Thanks for the picture."

"I'm just glad you didn't think it was lame," Dean said.

"No, it's cool. Can I ask about the teddy bear your dad gave Pastor Jim?"

"It goes back about 7 years. Sam was 5 and we were staying here while dad was away at work. Sam's kindergarten class was having a teddy bear picnic at school and he was upset because he didn't have a teddy bear, so Pastor Jim loaned him one. Of course, Sammy being 5, left it at school and it disappeared. Apparently, that bear was as old as Pastor Jim and dad felt terrible so he told Pastor Jim that he would make it up to him and he's bought him one every year since," Dean said.

"Do you guys always spend your Christmas here?" Gray asked.

Dean was tempted to lie, but for some reason, he couldn't. He took a deep breath and told Gray something about his past. "Since I was five. My mom..." Dean paused and tried to force down his emotions. Gray didn't say anything, instinct telling him that if he spoke, Dean wouldn't.

"My mom's dea... death was really hard on my dad," Dean finally got out.

_I bet he's not the only person it was hard on, Gray thought._

"He had trouble coping afterwards. I helped as much as I could by looking after Sammy, but it was Pastor Jim who put dad on the right path." _About what really was out there in the dark, but Gray didn't need to know that part._

Gray couldn't help but think that there was a lot more to this story, but it certainly explained a lot about his friend. He hadn't failed to notice that Dean was an enigma. He seemed so grown up and responsible, the way he looked after his brother. Yet in other ways, he still seemed so young and insecure. He wanted to know more and was tempted to ask Sam, as he knew he'd never get it out of Dean.

"What about your uncle?" Gray asked curiously.

Dean cursed himself. This was why he didn't talk about the past. He was afraid of contradicting something. They hadn't even known Bobby existed at that time. "They weren't always close. They kind of patched things up later," he said.

"I'm glad you guys moved to South Dakota," Gray admitted.

"Me too," Dean said sincerely. He'd had people that he was friendly with, but Gray was the first real friend he'd ever had, except for Sammy. "This is getting way to chick-flicky. Let's go raid the kitchen. There's a hot chocolate with my name on it."

"I thought you weren't allowed to drink that?"

"I'm not, but once won't kill me. Come on," Dean said as he led the way out of the room.

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They stayed in Blue Earth for a total of 5 days, Gray enjoying every minute of it. He'd had a couple of more late night conversations with Dean, causing Sam to remark that they sounded like a couple of teenage girls. He regretted his comment when he went to bed that night and found his bed had been short sheeted, causing him to have to remake it. Sam got revenge when he stole Gray and Dean's pyjamas and replaced them with two night gowns that he'd borrowed off Molly. This led to Gray experiencing a full fledged Winchester prank war that only ended when John threatened that all three would spend a day standing in a corner if they didn't knock it off, but that didn't deter them for long.

John had driven into town to run an errand for the pastor and was going to meet them at the church. The Winchesters were not particularly religious, but they attended all of Jim's services out of respect for him.

The three boys took advantage of John's absence and hid the pastor's shoes just before church, replacing them with combat boots. Jim tried to pretend that he was angry, but was unable to hide his grin.

"Very funny, boys," he addressed them. "Now you have exactly 5 minutes to return my shoes," he added trying to sound stern.

"Not sure what you mean, Pastor Jim," Gray said innocently.

"I'm sure you don't," Jim said trying to remain tolerant. "What I'm going to do is go into the kitchen and get my car keys. When I come back, I expect to find a pair of shoes sitting there."

When Jim got back, he found his shoes waiting for him. It was good to know he still had it.

"Thank you, boys," he said sincerely. "Now Sam and Dean, I need to ask you something."

"Yes," Sam said immediately.

"No," Dean replied just as instantly. "Come on, we don't want to be late," he said and immediately took off towards the car.

Gray just looked confused.

"It's tradition," Sam explained. "The service before we leave, Pastor Jim asks me to do a reading at church, and he asks Dean to sing the in the church choir. So far, Dean's turned him down every year."

"I didn't know Dean could sing," Gray said.

"He has a great voice," Pastor Jim confirmed. "Come on, we better get going."

"He just really hates being the center of attention," Sam informed Gray as they went to join Dean in the car.

Gray had been wondering about a way to let Pastor Jim know how much he appreciated being invited and not knowing how much his comment would affect Dean, said he would do anything Pastor Jim had asked as a way of saying thank you.

This, of course, caused Dean's guilt complex to flare up. Pastor Jim did do a lot for them and asked for nothing in return. He could do this one thing for him, couldn't he? He approached the Pastor and surprised him by agreeing to his request.

Gray watched as Sam got up and did his reading flawlessly, in Latin, no less. He really listened for Dean when the choir performed and he heard his friend's voice carry loud and clear across the church. He really did have a good voice. Being nervous caused Dean to stumble over a couple of words and he was worried that he had let the pastor down.

Jim assured him after the service that he had done a beautiful job and thanked him for performing. His words were backed up by Jim's parishioners who crowded around him, telling him that he had an angelic voice, and what a delightful young man he was and could he come back next week as there were several grandmothers who wanted their granddaughters to meet him.

He did enjoy hearing he compliments, but was glad to get away, as his cheeks hurt from several of the grandmotherly types who insisted on pinching them. He rejoined Sam and Gray and noticed that Sam's cheeks were as red as his.

The following day, they packed up the car. After hugs, thank yous, and talk to you soons, they began their return journey to South Dakota, Sam reading his book and Dean and Gray sitting in the back seat.

"Did you decide if you want to go to Aaron's party yet?" Gray inquired just before John dropped him off.

Dean saw his father glance at him in the rear view mirror. He really wished Gray hadn't brought it up. He had just planned on telling his friend that his father wouldn't let him go. He'd never really had any intentions of asking.

"I'll let you know," Dean said as the two boys said their goodbyes.

"What this about a party, Dean?" John asked.

"There's this guy at school that has a party every year before we start back to class."

"Do you want to go?"

_I'd rather stick bamboo under my fingernails. _"I'm not sure."

"Why not?" John asked.

_Because I hate crowds. _"I don't know. Aaron's parents aren't going to be there, dad," Dean said hoping that would be the end of it.

What Dean didn't know was that he'd been the subject of many a late night conversation between John and Jim. Jim had commented that it was good to see Dean with a friend and acting like a teenager. John immediately got testy and said that he was doing the best he could. Jim said that he knew that, but he had to remember that Dean was only a teenager and he needed to act like one occasionally. He cautioned John that Dean was growing up and that he needed to loosen the reins.

"You're almost 17, Dean. I don't know of a teenage party that does have parents and, Sam, before you protest, you're 12. You're not allowed at unsupervised parties until you're 16."

_Bet you made that one up on the spot. "_You know there's going to be alcohol, dad," Dean tried again.

"Doesn't mean you have to drink it. In fact, you're not to. Your blood sugar's back under control and I don't want it getting out of whack again," John ordered. "And don't think I don't know about the hot chocolate, Jonathan Dean."

Dean sighed, wondering how his father did that. So far this wasn't working. "Do I have to go?" Dean asked.

John honestly wasn't sure if he was comfortable with Dean attending this party but Pastor Jim's words did make sense, and Dean was normally very responsible, so John felt he could trust him.

"I think you should. It would be good for you to get out with kids your own age."

"What about curfew? How do I tell everybody there that's partying until 3 or 4 in the morning that I have to be home by midnight. The party doesn't even start until 9 and Gray said that it's usually after 10 before most people show up." _If that doesn't convince him nothing will._

John looked at his boy and thought about what he was saying. He really didn't like his sons out after midnight and if Dean had a curfew, it would cause the other boys to make fun of him. He took a deep breath. It was going to be a long night. "I'll extend your curfew for one night only. Two AM, Dean. Not a minute longer." _I'm gonna need to take something to get me thorough those two hours. _

Dean looked at his father as if he'd lost his mind. "I swear I'm not possessed, Dean. It's just that you're growing up and most importantly, after these last few months, you've earned my trust."

To Dean, that was the most important thing. He couldn't help the pride he felt at his father's words.

"So have fun at that party, okay kiddo?"

_But I don't want to go. _"Thanks, dad," Dean said softly.

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Dean called Gray when he got home and told him that he had decided to go to the party. Gray said that it was fun and they were really going to enjoy themselves. Dean decided that he needed all the friendly faces he could get, so he called and invited Kelsey, Miranda and Todd. Kelsey eagerly accepted his invitation. It was rare that they went out to a party, Kelsey knew that Dean usually avoided them. Miranda wanted to go, but Todd refused, causing Miranda to change her mind.

When the day of the party finally arrived though, Dean's hunter instincts were going off. He really hoped it was just him being paranoid, but somehow, he couldn't help but think that this was a big mistake.

A/N: Okay, so now you know the prank the boys are planning. I know that it is not going to scare Dean in the slightest but don't worry, its still going to cause Dean plenty of grief.

Don't forget to keep the muse happy and review. I live for feedback and I'm still not to proud to beg for it.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Still don't own.

A/N: As always I would like to add my thanks to Soar, Sinead-Conlan and JuliaAurelia for their help and feedback with this chapter.

After his dad had given him permission to go, the two days before the party went by much too quickly for Dean. He spent the entire time wracking his brain to try and come up with a way to get out of it, the problem was that everything he had come up with would have made his dad and Kelsey mad at him, or put him back in the hospital. Although, with the way he was feeling right now, he was wondering if that might not be the lesser of two evils.

He studied himself in the bathroom mirror, trying to give himself a pep talk, telling himself that he was just being paranoid. _Although you weren't paranoid if everyone was really out to get you, he thought._

"Hey, Dean," Sam said coming up to the bathroom door. "Here's your insulin."

"Thanks Sammy," Dean said accepting the vials from his brother and setting them on the bathroom counter. He was going to have to take his final shot at the party, he just hoped he could find a secluded place to do it. He would never let anyone see him take a needle.

"You're so lucky. I wish I could go. This party is all anyone talks about," Sam said regretfully.

"I'd send you in my place if I could," Dean mumbled.

"You don't want to go?" Sam asked in surprise.

"No," Dean replied. "It's just going to be a bunch of people getting drunk, and I know they're going to try something. I bet they have my proper welcome all planned."

Sam looked at his big brother in surprise. He'd heard the term tossed around by people at school.

"Don't look so surprised, Sammy," Dean said as he took in his brother's shocked expression. Dean had been at the school for four months and he wasn't stupid. He'd heard the term and he was amazed that they hadn't tried to pull one on him yet. He was certain that Jamie, Cody and Ben had something rigged for tonight.

"I'm sure they would have done it by now, if they were going to," Sam reasoned.

"Lulling me into a false sense of security," Dean countered.

"I think you're just being paranoid. Just relax and enjoy yourself," Sam instructed.

"You're probably right," Dean conceded, although it didn't make the uneasy feeling go away.

"Hey, Dean," they heard their father call from down the hall. "Phone. It's Gray."

"Coming," Dean answered. He hastily shoved his insulin and a syringe into his kit and went to go take the phone from his father.

John regarded his son as Dean spoke to his friend. He was really nervous, mostly about Dean being out after midnight, but he knew this was something he had to do. He watched as Dean hung up.

"Anything wrong?" John asked.

"No," Dean informed his father. "Cody asked Gray if he'd pick some stuff up for him, so he's going to drive himself to the party." Dean had been planning to pick him up.

"Before you go," John addressed his sons as Sam joined them in the kitchen. "Bobby called. He wanted to loan his séance book to Caleb and he can't find it. Did either of you two borrow it?"

Both Winchester boys said they hadn't.

"Alright. Dean, remember to relax and enjoy yourself," John said echoing Sam's words.

"I'll try," Dean said sincerely.

"Okay, let's run through your checklist," John said. "Bracelet?"

"Stays on," Dean replied with a sigh that his father still did this. He hadn't taken his bracelet off in months.

"Insulin?"

"Make sure I take it. Got it covered," Dean said as he held up his kit.

"Diet?"

"Don't eat anything I'm not supposed to because you will be checking my blood sugar when I get home."

"Curfew?"

"Two am. Not a minute later."

"Good, now get out of here."

"Yes sir," Dean said and headed toward the door. He paused and looked back over his shoulder. "Thanks dad."

Dean went to the car and started the engine. He sat there for a few minutes, trying to figure out any last minute plan to get him out of this. The paranoid feelings only intensified the minute he'd gotten the phone call from Gray. The plot every awful teen movie he'd seen was running through his head. Someone pretends to like the new kid while the others plan some horrible joke. Gray wasn't pretending to like him, was he? _Stop it, Dean, he berated himself. Gray __**is**__ your friend. _He gave another long suffering sigh and pulled out of the driveway and headed for Kelsey's.

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Kelsey was putting the finishing touches to her outfit. She'd been looking forward to this night since Dean had invited her. She had been surprised at the invitation though, because she knew he wasn't one for parties. They had gone to one at her school and Dean had looked so uncomfortable that they had left after an hour. He usually preferred to avoid large groups and sometimes Kelsey had to admit that was a drag because she did like a good party.

She had to wonder if that was because of his diabetes. She knew that he still felt self conscious about the way he had to eat. It did suck to have to order a salad when all your friends were eating French fries. The young teenager often wondered what Dean had been like before he'd gotten diabetes.

No matter what though, she was just glad that she was getting to spend time with her boyfriend. She'd hardly seen him the last couple of months.

She heard a car horn honk and her father called out to her that Dean was there. Kelsey gave her dad a quick kiss and then ran out to meet Dean.

"Hey Kelse," Dean greeted her and she jumped into the front seat of the Impala.

"Hi Dean," she said returning his greeting with a quick kiss. "Thanks for inviting me. We've even heard about this party at our school. My friends were so envious over the fact that I get to go."

"You're welcome," Dean said, beginning to wonder if he was normal. Everywhere he went, all people talked about was this party and how much they wanted to go. It seemed like he was the only one that didn't want to attend.

All too soon for Dean's liking, they pulled up at a fancy estate that made Gray's mansion look like Dean's house. The place was big enough to be a small resort.

Dean parked the car just inside the gate, well away from all the other cars, he didn't want the Impala getting banged up, and then he and Kelsey made their way up to the main house.

"Oh, Dean, I forgot to tell you," Kelsey said. "My parents gave me a 3 am curfew."

Dean stiffened. "I have to be home at 2," he explained.

"It's okay, I have cab fare. Dad said it would be okay for me to get a cab home later if I wanted to stay until the end."

This is why he didn't want to be here. Gray didn't even have a curfew and from what he could tell, neither did Ben, Neil or Jamie. He wished, just once, that he wasn't the odd man out. Maybe he could talk Kelsey into ditching the whole thing and going for a drive.

"Come, on. I can't wait to get in there. This looks to be as much fun as every says it is," Kelsey exclaimed excitedly.

_Guess not, Dean thought dejectedly. _He followed Kelsey inside and hoped for the best.

When they entered the house, there weren't that many people there yet, as it was just after 9. Dean immediately looked around for Gray, wanting to find another friendly face, but he didn't see him. Trying not to be noticed, Dean asked Kelsey if she wanted to get something to eat. She agreed and they made their way to the refreshment table.

Both were impressed by what they saw. There was just about every kind of food imaginable, from sandwich fixings, to vegetables, fruit, and just about every kind of snack food. Gray had informed Dean that there would be pizza ordered later too. Dean had made sure to adjust his diet that day so that he had enough calories and carbohydrates left to have some. Kelsey immediately filled a tray with chips and dip and Dean helped himself to the vegetables. So he didn't look like a total geek, he decided to cheat a little on his diet and took some dipping sauce for his vegetables.

They went to get a drink next and Dean wasn't surprised to find a whole tub of beer chilling. Much to his relief there was also an assortment of cola, both regular and diet. He took a diet coke and wondered just how much one beer would hurt. He now knew exactly how Sam had felt that night. Before he'd gotten sick, his dad had started letting him have a few beers on occasion. He looked to Kelsey and asked her if she wanted diet or regular soda, but she surprised him by asking for a beer.

"Hey Dean," he heard a voice call out to him.

Dean put on a fake smile and turned around. "Hey Ben," he said. "This is Kelsey, my girlfriend," he introduced politely.

"That's a pretty name for a pretty girl," Ben said and took Kelsey's hand and gave it a quick kiss.

Kelsey giggled and Dean rolled his eyes at the lame line. "Come on, let's go look around," Dean suggested. He was trying not to sound or appear jealous.

"Not so fast, I'd like to get to know the pretty lady."

"Ben," Dean said warningly.

"I'm flattered, Ben, really, but I'm a one man kind of girl. Come on, Dean, I'd like to look around."

Dean turned back and gave Ben a small smirk.

"Just wait, Winchester. Your time is coming," Ben mumbled under his breath and grabbed another beer.

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_1 hour later. _

Dean was beginning to wish he'd stuck to his guns and avoided this whole scene. He'd been uncomfortable since he'd arrived and it didn't help matters that some other girls from Kelsey's school, who had also managed to get an invitation, grabbed her and dragged her away from his side, saying they just had to show her something.

That left Dean wandering around by himself. He went back to the refreshment table and fended off three classmates' request that they join him for a beer. It was getting harder to resist.

He was grateful when Gray finally showed up. He went to join his friend when he saw him hand something to Cody.

"Hey Cody, here's those candles you wanted. I couldn't find white, hope green are okay," Gray said as he handed the bag to his friend.

"That's fine. Thanks man," Cody said as he took the bag and left before anyone could ask him anymore questions.

Dean wondered why Cody needed candles. He seriously doubted that it was because they were afraid that the power was going to go out. A suspicion began to grow in the back of his mind, but he shook his head in denial. _Stop it, Dean, he told himself._

The young hunter's relief was short lived when no sooner had he greeted Gray, than his friend was whisked away. To Gray's credit, he never once ignored Dean and tried to make him part of the crowd, but Dean still found himself on the outskirts of whatever group Gray was attached to. He glanced at his watch and once again found himself wishing that the night would just end.

"I'll be right back," Dean said to Gray. He had to use the washroom.

"So, Gray, man," Jamie said to his friend once Dean had gone. "What was it like slumming it over Christmas?"

Gray frowned. "I wasn't slumming. We went to the house of a friend of Dean's father's. I had a great time," Gray said genuinely.

"I wouldn't have gone," Jamie piped in. "Must suck to be poor. I mean, did you see Winchester's jacket? It looks like the one I donated to the Salvation Army," Jamie said and the rest of the group laughed.

Of course, Dean was just coming back to the group when he had heard Jamie's comment and he tried to stop himself from blushing. He didn't want to rejoin them just yet, so he went to the refreshment table and got another diet soda. He eventually wandered back to the group, hoping they weren't still talking about him.

"Hey, guys," a boy named Gordon said, coming up to the small group. "Aaron's setting up the karaoke machine. Anybody want to try? We're going to vote on the winner."

"Sure man," another boy said. "I did that at my sister's wedding. It's fun. Do you have Best Of My Life from 'Nsync?"

"I think so," Gordon said.

"I'll give it a go," Jamie said. "What about you, Dean?"

"I'll pass," he said.

"Come on, Dean," Gray encouraged. "I heard you sing at church, you have a great voice."

"You sing in a church choir?" a boy Dean didn't know sneered.

Dean blushed again. He really wished Gray hadn't said anything.

"Do you wear one of those dress type things?"

"I don't think we have any biblical songs."

"Shut up," Dean snapped. "No, I don't sing in a choir. I did a favour for a friend of my father's and no, I didn't wear a robe, and I don't know any biblical songs."

"Geez, Winchester," the boy said. "It was just a joke. Here, have a beer, it will lighten you up."

"I'm good, thanks," Dean said and held up his diet coke.

"Don't be such a wimp, man. It's just beer."

"I can't. I'm diabetic," Dean admitted. He really wished they would stop offering him beer. He really wished he could go home.

"So, you going to whip their butts?" Gray asked changing the subject.

"No," Dean said firmly and started to walk away.

"Dean, wait up," Gray said chasing after him.

"I'm sorry. I just can't," Dean apologized.

"I didn't mean anything by it. I just thought it would be fun," Gray tried to apologize.

"Don't worry about it. You go ahead though, I'm going to go track down Kelsey."

"Kay, talk you later."

Dean tried to find his way back to the main room where he had last seen Kelsey. This place was worse than a maze. He finally found Kelsey and he frowned when he saw her talking and flirting once again with Ben. He realized that both of them were well on their way to becoming drunk.

"Kelsey," Dean said as he went up to his girlfriend.

"Dean, what's up? Tell you what, can you get me another beer? This one's empty," Kelsey said and held up the can.

"I think you've had enough," Dean cautioned.

"Don't be an old fuddy-duddy, Deanie. I want a beer," she insisted.

"If he's too much of a fuddy-duddy, I'll get you one," Ben offered.

"Thanks. See, Dean. You need to have fun. Hey, Ben, get Dean one too."

"Kelsey," Dean said in an exasperated tone. "You know I can't."

"Just once, I wish I didn't have to worry about what you can and can't have. It gets to be a real drag after awhile," Kelsey said unthinkingly.

"Come on, I'll get you hooked up," Ben said and led her away, this time, he was the one throwing a smirk over his shoulder.

"Kelsey," Dean called softly as she walked away. He tried to rationalize to himself that it was the alcohol, but he was still hurt by Kelsey's statement. Had she always felt that way? Did she truly resent his restrictions? Things weren't going to change. His father would always be strict and he couldn't change the fact the fact that he had diabetes. He decided that they really needed to talk.

He glanced at his watch for what seemed like the thousandth time. His evening injection consisted of a dose of intermediate acting insulin and he was supposed to take it 2-4 hours before bedtime, so he'd adjusted his schedule to compensate for taking it later and it was now going on 11:30. He was going to have to take it soon and eat something if he didn't want to risk a hypo in the middle of the night. Kelsey was right. This did suck. Still, he knew his dad was counting on him not to screw up, so he slipped out to the car and grabbed his injection kit. He was glad that there was a lot of light because he really did not want to do this in the house and if it was any darker, he would never have seen the markings on his syringe. He quickly took his meds and headed back into the house, grabbing an apple off the table.

He couldn't find Kelsey anywhere when he got back, but he tracked down Gray. He got a few minutes to talk to his friend before another group joined them.

"Hey guys, having fun?" Ben asked.

"Yeah," Gray said enthusiastically.

"Loads," Dean said sarcastically.

"Hey, guess what? It's almost time for tonight's entertainment. Did you guys ever hear of Evan McCourt?"

"No," Dean said.

"He was some guy that went to our school once, I think," Gray said.

"Yeah, well, Neil's dad knows Evan's Uncle and from what he heard, apparently Evan didn't get into the college he wanted and he ended up killing himself. Aaron thought it would be cool if we tried to contact his spirit. We're going to hold a séance just after midnight," Ben said.

Suddenly, everything snapped together in Dean's mind. The candles that Gray had brought earlier, Bobby's missing book. Ben had to have stolen it off Bobby. That alone was enough to make him mad. He had invited them into Bobby's home and they'd abused his generosity. Dean was even willing to bet that someone was playing the part of the spirit they were going to summon. This had to be his proper welcome. They wanted to try and scare him.

Dean realized that right now, he was definitely between a rock and a hard place. If his father was there, Dean knew what he'd expect him to do, throw a punch and knock Ben into next week and stop the séance before it got started. Okay, maybe not hit Ben, that was just more wishful thinking on his part. If he stopped the séance though, he realized that he was going to look like he was scared.

He had a feeling that the séance wouldn't work any. Even with Bobby's book, he didn't think they were smart enough to pull it off. Before he could even decide what to do, Cody and Jamie made an announcement that they were going to hold a séance in the den, the main room where the party was being held, and anyone was welcome to participate. Dean followed everyone and took a seat in the circle that Cody asked everyone to form. He looked around and quickly realized that almost everyone from the party had decided to attend. No matter what he did, Dean knew this was not going to have a happy ending. He watched Ben walk to the middle of the floor and begin to draw a design on the wooden floor with some chalk. He said that no matter what happened, with the sigil in place, and as long as they all remained in a circle, nothing could get to them. Dean had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. The sigil only protected the person who was standing behind it, everyone else was going to be fair game.

If they did call anything forward, Ben was going to be the first person to get nailed because, first of all, Ben's sigil was backwards. He also had green candles instead of white. White was a symbol of purity and was supposed to help protect the person who called forth the spirit, and to make matters worse, he had them at all the wrong points. Even four year old Sammy had done better when Bobby had first showed him how.

Dean was seriously tempted go up to Ben and show him where he was going wrong. That would really put a crimp in their plans, but he really couldn't do that because he knew what he was doing and calling a spirit for any reason was a really bad idea.

Dean remembered a job he had worked with his father once. 6 college kids were playing around and decided it would be fun to try and call a demon. They got the shock of their lives when the spell actually worked. By the end of the job, 4 of the 6 kids were dead, the fifth ended up in a mental institution, and the 6th was convicted of four counts of murder and one count of attempted murder and would spend the rest of his life in jail. This was an area where there was no room for mistakes.

"Now everyone, I need you all to concentrate on the spirit of Evan," Ben instructed. He took an empty bowl and placed it in front of him and pulled out an eyedropper that had red liquid in it. "This is human blood," he explained and put a couple of drops in the bowl. We mix that with some oil of abremelin, and now I will read the chant and we will call forth the spirit of Evan McCourt.

If Dean had to guess, the stuff in the eye dropper was red kool-aide and the oil was probably vegetable oil or something. Even he didn't know where to get oil of abremelin.

Cringing at Ben's pronunciation, Dean knew this was going too far. The Latin had to be recited perfectly. A mispronounciation would throw the whole spell off and this was old school Latin, nothing like the exercises that they got in school. It was his job to keep these idiots in the dark and safe. Dean knew that there was a good chance that nothing would happen, but he also knew that there was a tiny chance they were going to get something even he couldn't deal with.

"Spiritus im..." Ben recited.

"Stop!" Dean spoke up. He was doing the right thing, even though he knew what he was going to be subjecting himself to.

"Relax, Winchester, I'm almost done," Ben called.

"Enough, Ben. This isn't a good idea," Dean cautioned.

"Hey, Dean, relax. This is just for fun," Gray said, not understanding Dean's reaction.

"Yeah, Dean stop being a stick in the mud," Kelsey said in a whining tone.

"Yeah, Winchester, you're not scared are you?" Jamie teased.

"I'm not scared," Dean protested.

"Then sit down and let Ben finish," Cody said challenging Dean.

Dean knew that he couldn't let this continue. There was too big a chance of someone getting hurt. "It's not a good idea. You have to stop," Dean insisted. He tried to prepare himself for what was coming next and he wasn't disappointed. They all started laughing him and he could feel them pointing at him and hear them whispering. He saw Ben whisper something in Kelsey's ear and they glanced in his direction and started laughing.

"Dean, what's wrong with you?" Gray asked in a bewildered tone.

"Nothing, please just trust me," he pleaded to his friend.

For the life of him, Gray couldn't figure out why Dean was so upset. "Come on, Dean, it's just harmless fun. Just stop being on guard all the time," Gray said unthinkingly.

"Forget it," Dean snapped. He tried to tell himself that Kelsey was drunk, but what hurt more than that were Gray's words. He wasn't drunk. The only thing Dean could think of to do was to leave.

"Dean," Gray called to his friend.

"What?" Dean huffed.

"Look, I don't know why you're reacting this way. Talk to me. Why'd you stop the séance? It's not like it's real or anything."

"You wouldn't understand. I'm going to go." He turned to look for Kelsey but he didn't see her anywhere. _Where could she have gotten off to so qucikly? _He really didn't want to speak to anyone and ask if they had seen her. He searched for her, trying to ignore the stares. He finally found Kelsey in the kitchen, and just like everywhere he had been in the last 10 minutes, he found himself the subject of a group's laughter.

"Kelsey, come on," he said ignoring the points and stares.

"I don't want to leave. You see, you always ruin my fun," Kelsey said drunkenly.

"I'm not letting you drive home with anyone here. They're all drunk."

"I told you, I can get a cab. I don't want to leave yet."

"Come on, Kelse," Dean said as he held out his hand to her.

"I said no. Benny, I'm going for more beer, you want one?" Kelsey said, ignoring Dean's outstretched hand.

"Oh, yeah. Hear that, Winchester? She wants to be with a real man, which we know you're not."

"Shut up, Atwood," Dean growled, his hand curling into fists by his side.

"I'm surprised your father and brother keep you around. How would you react if something tried to hurt them?" he said looking at Dean and he quickly learned the true meaning of fear. Dean looked beyond pissed and with a speed Ben didn't know a human could possess, Dean grabbed him and pushed him up against the wall, gripping his shirt tight in his hands.

"Go for it, Winchester, I dare you," Ben challenged.

The young hunter knew what Ben was doing. His father was a lawyer, some high powered judge. Dean's father was a mechanic. It didn't take a genius to see who would come out the loser if Dean messed up Ben's pearly whites. His family was happy and settled and Dean didn't want anything to mess that up. He let go of Ben before he could do something he would regret. Ben had dropped Bobby's book when Dean had grabbed him so Dean just angrily picked the book up off the floor and stormed off.

"Yeah, that's it, run home to mommy and cry. Oh that's right, you can't. She's not around, is she? What, she get sick of having a wuss for a son?"

Ben suddenly wondered if he might have gone too far. Dean looked like he'd been punched in the gut and had his heart ripped out of his chest. He just turned and stormed out of the room, ignoring all the baby and wuss and spoil sports that were aimed at him. He got into his car and took off. All thoughts of Kelsey, Gray, and the party completely left his mind.

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Dean glanced at his watch. It was only a little before one and Dean knew that he couldn't go home, or he'd get grilled by his dad and brother about what had happened, and he didn't want to talk about it, _**ever! **_He decided to just drive around for a while.

Of course, the apple he had eaten had done little to counteract the insulin that was in his system and it wasn't long before that familiar shaky feeling came over him.

"God damn it," he said and pounded the steering wheel in frustration. He reached over to his kit and grabbed his roll of glucose tablets and popped a few into his mouth. He pulled over into a parking lot, as he knew that he shouldn't drive until he was sure he was okay. He wrapped his coat around him and stepped out of the car, hoping the cold, night air would make him feel better.

He sat on the hood, Ben's words replaying themselves in his mind over and over. _"Yeah, that's it,__run home to mommy and cry. Oh that's right, you can't. She's not around,__is she? What,__she get sick of having a wuss for a son?" _How did Ben know about his mother? Gray must have told him. _God, I must be the stupidest person on the planet. Gray must have been in on it with them from the start. _Surprisingly, that was what was hurting him the most, the fact the he may have lost his friend. He was really confused. He just wanted to go home, but that was the last place that he could go. So he sat just sat there.

He decided to go for a walk, but when he stood up, things started spinning and he went down. He shakily pulled himself up and tried again. _Damn it, he should have eaten more. _He went to the driver's side of the car to grab his kit and get some more glucose tablets. Then the Winchester luck reared its ugly head.

Officers Robert Jones and William Tolliver were making their nightly patrols when they came across the Impala. They saw the young teenager stagger and fall, and both immediately jumped to the conclusion that he must be drunk. They knew it was the night of the big party out at the Bochner estate.

"Hey son," Officer Jones said as he and his partner pulled over. "Where you off to?"

"Wish I knew," Dean said.

"How about you get into the back and we'll take you home."

"Don't wanna go home jus' yet," Dean mumbled.

"That's not an option. You're lucky that we don't take you in on a DUI. Since you're not actually behind the wheel, we'll just take you home to your parents," Officer Tolliver said. He led Dean over to the cruiser and sat him in the back seat.

"What about my car?"

"You should have thought of that before you decided to drive drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Dean said in an insulted tone. "Dad told me I wasn't allowed to."

"And we all know how well teenagers listen to their fathers."

"Dad gives an order, you listen," Dean said with a sigh.

The two cops knew it would do know good to bring him in because all those rich fathers had lawyers that could get their brats off from anything. "Where do you live?"

"With my dad and brother," Dean said.

"Don't get smart with me boy," Officer Jones said. He really had no tolerance for teenagers.

"I'm not smart, I'm apparently really dumb," Dean said morosely.

"Just check his wallet," Tolliver said to his partner.

"Kay." Jones reached over and grabbed Dean's wallet. He was expecting a fight, but the kid had closed his eyes and didn't resist. "Says he lives on Mitchell Lane."

"That's not in this neighborhood."

"Come on let's just take him home."

They drove toward the Winchester's address and both were surprised at the location. They were beginning to wonder if they should have taken him in to the station instead. The house was run down and not in the best part of town. Both officers were wondering what they would find inside. Jones thought for sure they would find the place a disaster area and the father drunk himself. His son was drunk and the apple didn't fall far from the tree, apparently.

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While Dean was at his party, John and Sam spent a calm night at home. They watched some movies and, guilt free, they gorged themselves on junk food. Sam had eventually gone to bed and John was left pacing the floor, glancing at the clock every few minutes, hoping that it would make the time go faster.

He was startled out of his pacing when he heard the door bell ring. He ran and opened it and was surprised to see his son standing there, flanked by two officers.

"Hi sir, we found your son driving drunk down Main Street. He's lucky we decided to bring him home instead of pressing charges," Officer Jones said. He looked around and had to admit that he was surprised. The small home was neat and tidy and the father didn't appear drunk, as Jones had thought he would.

John's temper instantly flared. "Jonathan Dean, I thought we discussed this. Not only were you not supposed to drink, but driving drunk, you know how I feel about that."

"How about waiting until morning to lecture me dad," Dean requested. "I'm tired. I'd like to sleep." Before anyone could stop him, he staggered to the couch and dropped down.

"Dean, don't you dare go to sleep. You're lucky you're not in jail. I think you should thank these officers for not arresting you." Dean didn't respond. John reached down and shook him. He didn't like how sluggish Dean was. "Dean, wake up," John ordered.

Dean finally stirred. "Tired," he mumbled.

"Damn it," John growled, a thought suddenly occuring to him. "Dean, when was the last time you ate?"

"Ate?" Dean asked in a confused tone. "I'm not hungry. Go away, I want to sleep."

"Dean, stay awake," John said sharply. He had to check Dean's blood sugar. If it was low enough, it could cause him to appear drunk. He needed Dean's meter. It would be in his injection kit, in the car. "Where's the car?" he asked.

"Mr. Winchester, what's going on?" Officer Jones said.

"Did you even bother to do a breathalyzer? He's not drunk. Now where's the car?"

"It's back at the park where we picked him up."

Dean only had one meter, so John had no way of checking Dean's blood sugar, but he was willing to bet it was too low. He ran to the cupboard and grabbed a glucose syringe and went to his son.

"What's going on here?" Jones repeated.

"He's not drunk," John repeated. "He has diabetes." With that, John drove the syringe into Dean's thigh and pushed the plunger. True to form, just like the last three times time Dean'd had this injection, he ended up bolting down the hall and throwing up once he'd roused sufficiently from his stupor. When Dean had finished, John escorted his still shaky son into the kitchen and poured him a glass of soda.

"Dad," a sleepy voice mumbled from behind him.

"Sam, go into the kitchen and sit with your brother."

"Dad, what's going on? Is Dean alright?" The sight of the two officers had scared him.

"He's fine, kiddo, just go to the kitchen. I'll be there in a minute."

"Dad,"

"Sam, I said... " John stopped when he realized that it was Dean who spoke.

"I didn't drink, I promise."

"I believe you, son."

"What's happening?" Jones insisted once again.

"I didn't eat enough," Dean explained. "When that happens, my blood sugar gets too low. It can cause me to act funny, but I swear, I didn't drink anything but diet soda and I was feeling shaky so I pulled over. That's when you stopped by," Dean said to the officers.

"Let's clear this up," Tolliver said. He made Dean blow into a breathalyzer and it registered 0. Satisfied with the result, they made to leave, but John immediately pointed out that part of Dean's necessary equipment for his illness had been left in the car, so the two officers immediately offered to take John to pick up the car.

"How was the party, Dean?" Sam asked after their dad had left with the officers. It was only about one thirty.

"Boring," Dean replied as he opened the fridge and made himself a sandwich.

Sam looked at him in disbelief. He could read his brother like a book and he knew that something must have happened.

Sam tried to get the story out of him but couldn't. Dean refused to talk about it, he just wanted to go to bed. John showed up shortly afterward and checked Dean's blood sugar properly with his meter. He was still a little low, so John made him drink more soda. He, too, wanted an explanation of what had happened that night. Dean refused to answer him as well. For once, even the words, 'it's an order', failed to work. Dean just said that the party was boring and that he wanted to go to bed. John took his blood sugar once more and found it satisfactory, so he sent him to bed, promising him that this wasn't over and that they would talk in the morning.

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Dean lay in bed, feigning sleep. He knew that his dad would make him talk in the morning and he didn't want to. He wanted to pretend that the whole world didn't exist, but he knew that his father wouldn't let it go. There was only one place that he could go and feel safe. The only problem was how to get to Bobby's. The Impala was loud and would wake his dad. It was too cold and too far to walk. His dad would skin him alive if he hitchhiked. He could call Bobby and ask to be picked up, but he didn't want to do that. He finally decided that he didn't care if he woke his father. He grabbed the Impala's keys, snuck out of the house, got into the car and pulled out of the driveway.

John and Sam awoke to the rumbling of the Impala. Sam glanced over and saw Dean's empty bed. His father came into the room shortly afterward. He asked Sam if he knew where Dean went, but he honestly didn't know. John was furious and worried. Where was Dean off to? Some of his fears were relieved a short while later when he got a phone call from Bobby to say that Dean was there. Bobby told John that Dean was obviously upset about something and he would talk to him in the morning. He warned John to stay away until he heard from him. John didn't like it, but he understood. He went back to bed but didn't sleep.

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Kelsey woke up the next morning with a wicked hangover. Her head was pounding and the room was spinning. The last thing she remembered about last night was Dean offering to take her home. She had refused and had instead flirted with that other boy, Ben. She knew that she owed Dean an apology, she knew that she had said some nasty things to him.

She got up and headed for the shower, hoping it would make her feel better. No sooner had she had gotten into the bathroom though, than her stomach heaved and she rushed over to the toilet. When she was done, she rinsed her mouth out and looked into the medicine cabinet for some aspirin. Not only did she have a headache, but she was strangely sore all over, and she wondered if she had fallen. Remembering that she had put the aspirin in her purse, she went to retrieve it. She gasped in horror at what she saw. There was an open condom packet sitting in the top. She had no idea how it had gotten there. She hadn't, had she?

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Gray had also woken up the next morning feeling as bad as Kelsey, but for different reasons. He hadn't been drunk, he'd only had two beers last night. He just wished he'd handled the situation differently. He realized that if he were in Dean's shoes, he would be wondering if he had been in on everything. He just hoped that Dean would forgive him for his remarks. He really didn't want to lose Dean's friendship. He got dressed and grabbed his car keys. He needed to see Dean.

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Bobby also awoke early the next morning. He stopped and ppeked into the bedroom that belonged to John's boys whenever they were there. He was glad to see that Dean was still sleeping. He had been shocked to discover a distraught Dean on his porch at three in the morning. The worst of it was that Dean wouldn't even tell him what had happened, he just asked Bobby if could crash there. Bobby, of course, said yes. He'd never turn Dean away. He sent Dean straight to bed and then called John. John had filled him in on everything that he knew, which wasn't much.

Bobby went into the kitchen to prepare Dean's breakfast. He really didn't want to wake the young hunter, but he knew that Dean was going to need to eat soon. He busied himself in the kitchen and was glad that woke Dean up by himself, a short time later.

"Morning, Bobby," Dean said nonchalantly.

"Good morning, son. Have a seat, breakfast will be ready in a few." He knew what was coming next and Dean didn't disappoint.

"I'm not hungry," Dean immediately protested.

"Dean," Bobby said trying to maintain his patience. "Don't do this. You know..."

"I have to eat. Yeah, I know and it still doesn't change the fact that I'm not hungry."

"Humor me, okay? Pretend you are."

"No," Dean said stubbornly.

"Enough, Dean. If you don't eat, you know your blood sugar is going..."

"I don't care. I didn't take any insulin, so it doesn't matter," Dean said. "I didn't even bring it."

"You wait here. I'm going to go over to your place and get some," Bobby offered, knowing that Dean did not want to go home.

"Bobby, I ah found your book," Dean said and handed the old tome back to the elder hunter.

"Where'd you find it?" he asked curiously.

"In Ben's back pack. He stole it. I'm sorry, Bobby, I never would have invited him if I knew..."

"Dean, it's okay, kiddo. You did nothing wrong. Now stay here and I'll be back soon."

Before Dean could protest further, Bobby disappeared.

He drove to John's and picked up Dean's insulin kit and some supplies. He ran into Gray at John's place and the young man filled them in on everything that had happened the night before. John and Bobby looked at each other and it left Gray wondering if being able to hold a silent conversation with your eyes was a Winchester trait. Sam, John and Bobby were all proud of Dean, of course, but couldn't say that.

Bobby told Gray to give Dean some time and try to call him later that day. He said Dean would probably refuse to speak to him, but that he had to keep trying. It was the only way Dean would believe that Gray wasn't pretending to like him.

When Bobby got back to his house, he found it empty. He thought for a moment that Dean had taken off, but Bobby remembered that when Dean was upset, the garage was his favourite place to go. Sure enough, that was where Bobby found his young protégé.

"I got this from your father," Bobby said, showing Dean his insulin kit. "Come on back to the house and I'll reheat breakfast."

"I'm busy," Dean said. "I'll be up later." He turned back to the engine of the car he was buried under.

"Now, Dean," Bobby said forcibly

"No!" Dean protested again.

Bobby sighed wearily. He decided to try what he normally did when Dean was sick. He went into the office and prepared Dean's syringe. "Here," he tried again.

"I said no," Dean said, on the verge of whining.

"I know this is a drag, kiddo..."

"Stop it! I'm sick of it, all of it. I don't want any more needles. _**I DON"T NEED ANYONE**_," Dean shouted and tried to bolt past Bobby. Prepared, Bobby caught him, pulled him into a bear hug and refused to let go. Dean struggled and protested, trying to pull away, but Bobby wouldn't let him. He just held on tighter. He knew that Dean was not just talking about his diabetes. All he could think about was what had happened with Gray and Kelsey at the party. He had to pretend that he didn't know though.

"Talk to me, Dean," Bobby asked gently as he led Dean over to a bench and put an arm around his shoulder, not only to offer physical comfort, but to prevent Dean from escaping.

"I can't believe I was so stupid. How dumb can I be?" Dean mumbled sadly.

"That's not exactly what I had in mind," Bobby said with a grin.

"I am though, Bobby. I'm an idio..."

"Dean, you're not. Stop it."

"I fell for it. I wanted to believe that..." Dean started and stopped abruptly.

"What Dean?" Bobby probed gently.

"That someone would want to be my friend," Dean mumbled under his breath.

Bobby's heart broke into a million pieces at Dean's statement. He noticed tears glistening in Dean's eyes that he knew the young hunter was desperately trying to keep at bay. Bobby had to guess that this had to do mainly with Gray. Dean had never lacked for female company, and while Bobby knew that Dean cared about Kelsey, Gray was the first male friend he'd had that was his own age. Bobby had been so happy when Dean had met Gray. He seemed to be the friend Dean had not only needed, but wanted as well.

"Dean, look, I promise it goes no further than us. What happened last night?" He knew he had to try and get Dean to talk about it.

It took a lot more gentle probing, but Bobby eventually got the whole story out of Dean, from Gray's comments to Kelsey's words. The thing that got to Bobby the most was when Dean recounted what Ben said to him, it had him seeing red. He was going to make a few phone calls and see if Judge Atwood had any skeletons in his closet that needed to see the light of day. No one messed with his boy.

"Dean, son, listen to me. Kelsey was drunk, she had no idea what she was saying. There are things about yourself that you can't tell Gray that I know you want to. Remember what I said, actions speak louder than words. I don't think Gray was in on that prank and I think deep down, you know it too. Talk to him, let him explain. I have a good feeling about the boy, hell, even your daddy likes him and that's saying a lot." Bobby knew that Dean would realize this. He just needed to get past the hurt.

"I'll think about it," Dean conceded.

"Now, I know that things haven't been easy of late, but Dean, I'm not going to let you neglect your health. Your daddy would have my head. So you're going to take your insulin and I don't care if I have to sit on you to do so. Then you have a choice, come up to the house for some home made waffles, or I'll drag your behind to the hospital and tell them to stick the feeding tube back in."

Dean knew that Bobby was serious. He walked over to the table and took his meds. "I'm starving," he said pasting on a fake smile. Bobby would take what he could get for now. He knew that Dean was not over this by a long shot.

Dean stayed at his place for the next 2 days. He refused to see Kelsey or Gray and refused their calls. Bobby left him alone though, because he knew that Dean had to work through this in his own way.

Dean went back to his father's house the day before school started back. No sooner had Dean had left, than Bobby's phone rang. He felt his heart beat quicken when he realized it was Dante.

TBC

Please remember to feed my addiction and keep my muse happy. Please read and review.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Thank you to Soar, Sinead-Conlan and JuliaAurelia for there help with this chapter.

Disclaimer: Still don't own them

Just like always, John Winchester awoke one minute before his alarm. He rolled out of bed and grabbed a quick shower. The boys were starting back to school today and John wasn't sure what to expect. Dean had come back from Bobby's the night before, but he was still tight lipped about everything that had happened. John was respecting Dean's need to process things his own way, but it was killing him that his boy was hurting. He also had a feeling that he was going to have a battle on his hands getting Dean to school this morning. The eldest Winchester knew just how cruel kids could be and he didn't doubt that the story would be all over school.

He walked down the hall to go start breakfast. He entered the kitchen and got a shock when he saw his eldest sitting at the table, already dressed in his uniform and consuming a large bowl of Lucky Charms. John was reluctant to say anything about the illicit treat though, because ever since he had recalled the memory of Dean and Mary, he knew that eating the cereal was Dean's round about way of seeking his mother's comfort. _There was a bit of pop psychology, John thought. _

"Morning, son," John greeted.

Dean started at his father's words. He had been so focused on trying to finish his cereal before his father got up, that he hadn't heard him approach. _Busted! "_Ah Dad, I can explain," he tried.

"Explain what? I didn't see anything. Go wake your brother and come back for breakfast, I expect you have room to eat a proper meal?"

"I'm starving," Dean replied, gulping down the last of his cereal and hightailing it out of the room before his father could change his mind.

John just shook his head. Dean never ceased to amaze him.

Dean's emotions, though, were in over drive. He knew what was in store for him when he got to school, and he would have given anything to skip it, but he knew his father would never let him. Even if he stayed home, he knew he would only be postponing the inevitable. Might as well go and get it over with.

After breakfast, Dean got into the car with his father and brother and headed off toward what was sure to be a day in hell.

All too soon for Dean's liking though, they drove through the school's huge entrance gates. John dropped Sam off in front of the junior high building and then drove Dean to the administration building to pick up his new schedule. Dean had decided to join the advanced program and his schedule had been rearranged to accommodate his new classes. Just before letting Dean off in front of his own building, John addressed his eldest.

"Dean, I want you to listen to me, son," John started and the familiar scowl found its way onto Dean's face. "Whatever happens, if kids start in on you, remember what I told you. Try not to make it into a scene. No Fighting," he emphasized.

"Dad," Dean said. "Don't worry," he said trying to put on an air of confidence.

John hesitated for a moment before nodding his acceptance. "I'll see you and Sam after school."

Dean didn't say anything further, he just got out of the car and stalked off. He knew it was going to be a bad day when the others around the entrance pointed at him and started whispering. Dean headed directly to the nurse's office to drop off his insulin and then headed toward his locker.

As he arrived at his destination, the scene turned into a carbon copy of the party, just after he'd stopped the séance, but on a larger scale. He had been right when he knew that the story had been spread all over the school. He could feel the eyes on him, hear their whispers and their laughter. Dean's feelings of self-loathing were growing and he realised with horror that he wanted to cry. Dean Winchester didn't cry. _**Ever!**_ He really wished that he could skip going to his locker because it was right next to Gray's, and Dean was still avoiding him. He just wasn't ready for a confrontation yet. His bad luck held true to form when he got to his locker and found Gray waiting for him.

"Hey Dean," Gray said tentatively.

"Hey," Dean returned the greeting politely.

"Look, Dean..."

"Save it," Dean snapped. "I don't want to talk about it right now, okay?"

"Dean..." Gray tried again.

"Look at that," A voice jeered and Dean sensed more people approaching. "Hey Dean, I'm surprised you're here. I thought you would have been too _scared,"_ Cody sneered.

"I have to get to class," Dean said trying to ignore everyone. He wished he could just dump all the books he needed into his backpack so he wouldn't have to come back here today.

Jamie and Ben stepped in front of Dean, blocking his way. "Would you like me to walk you there?" Jamie taunted. "I wouldn't want something to frighten you."

"Move," Dean said firmly. He could take these two idiots without breaking a sweat.

"Make me, or are you to much of a wuss?" Ben jeered.

"Guys, knock it off," Gray said, trying to act as a mediator.

"Need your bodyguard to protect you, Wimpchester?" Ben added.

"No, but if you don't get out of my way, you're going to need one, Atwood," Dean threatened.

"Like to see you make me, Wimpchester," Ben challenged.

Not wanting to get into trouble, Dean tried to duck around them. Ben moved over and once again stood in front of him.

"Knew you weren't a real man, Wimpchester. I am though, and I proved it to your girlfriend, twice."

Before Ben even knew what was happening, he found himself pinned against a row of lockers. Dean's self control was fading fast. "Did you hurt her?" he demanded.

The other boys in the hall stopped and stared, hoping for a show. Gray reacted and tried to get in the middle of them. If a teacher happened to walk by now, it was not going to be good. There was a zero tolerance policy on fighting. "Dean, back off. You don't want to get expelled," Gray cautioned.

Knowing Gray was right, Dean let go and just in time too, as Mr. Wright walked around the corner. "What's going on here?" he demanded.

"Nothing, Mr. Wright," Gray said.

The social studies teacher could tell that something had happened. He could feel the tension surrounding the boys. "I can tell that. Jonathan, I'll see you in detention for causing a scene. Now, I suggest all you boys get to where you need to be or you'll be joining Jonathan."

"Yes Mr. Wright," the boys all said and took off. Mr. Wright handed Dean a detention slip and headed down the hall toward his classroom.

"Just great," Dean muttered and slammed his locker shut.

Gray watched as Dean stalked off down the hall. They had all been causing a scene, so why was Dean the only one that had ended up with a detention and more importantly, why hadn't his friend tried to defend himself?

According to his new schedule, Dean's first class was now math. He entered the classroom, really glad that he didn't have to deal with Mr. Wright first thing in the morning. He greeted Mr. Jeter and handed him his transfer paper. Mr. Jeter told Dean that he was glad that Dean had decided to join the class.

Dean swiftly took his usual seat in the back, trying not to be noticed. One thing he quickly found though, was that he had to pay attention in this advanced lesson, the work was much harder. He was left wondering if he had made a mistake in choosing to switch his schedule when, at first, nothing the teacher said was making sense. Dean focused everything he had on what Mr. Jeter was teaching and soon enough, his natural ability took over. He found that he was actually enjoying being challenged and solving the problems. He wished all his problems could be fixed with a simple formula though.

Math ended much too quickly and Dean made his way to English. His new physics class was in his old English time slot. He did note that he now had Mr. Kuchera, rather than battle axe Becky and Dean's day perked up a bit more when Mr. K, as the class referred to him, told them that they would be focusing on short stories. No more poetry that semester.

Two periods later, Dean emerged from his new physics class, which he'd also enjoyed, and he went to the nurse's office to take his meds. Of all the times he had been tempted to skip his insulin dose, this was the strongest. The cafeteria was the last place he wanted to go, but he had to eat. He decided that tomorrow, he was bringing lunch from home and eating in the Impala.

He reluctantly entered the lunchroom and grabbed a tray. He could feel all eyes on him and although he tried to stop it, he felt himself blush as red as his blazer. He tried to remember his father's advice and went to the lunch line. Dean wasn't even sure what he grabbed and like the first day of school, he looked for an empty table. He finally found one and sat down to eat.

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Gray entered the cafeteria shortly after Dean. He really wanted to go over and sit with Dean, but he wasn't sure how he would be received, so he reluctantly made his way over to his usual table.

"Hey Gray," Cody greeted as his friend sat down. "Aaron's party was great, wasn't it?"

"It was okay," Gray said vaguely.

"Who would have guessed Wimpchester's proper welcome would work out so well," Jamie commented.

"Why would you plan one in the first place?" Gray wondered. "You know how I feel about them and please stop calling him Wimpchester, Dean is our friend."

"He was? That's news to me?" Jamie said and the others laughed.

"Dean's not so bad, guys," Neil commented. He had decided not to participate in the séance. He'd been to busy anyway with one of the Benchley girls.

"He doesn't belong here," Cody said.

"Why?" Gray snapped. "Because his father works here? Because he's not rich? If you want to get right down to it, then you don't belong here either, Cody, or did you forget that you flunked last year and it was only daddy's money that kept you here."

Cody turned red. "You're siding with Wimpchester now? What's happened to you, man? We've been friends since kindergarten."

"Were we?" Gray questioned. "Were we truly friends, or was it that we hung out together because our families expected it?"

"Gray, you're getting all bent out of shape for a nobody, man," Jamie said.

"No, I'm getting bent out of shape because you guys are insulting my friend. I can't believe I hung out with you jerks," Gray said and got up from the table. He fully intended to go sit down with his real friend when he realized that Dean had already left the cafeteria. _Tomorrow, he vowed to himself. _

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Dean walked down the hall to social studies, wishing that he had gotten a different teacher, but no such luck. He had gulped down his lunch and left the cafeteria as fast as possible. He just hoped that he had eaten enough, because he honestly wasn't sure what he had consumed. He had just wanted out of the lunch room as soon as possible, he knew that everyone was still talking about him. He was 16 now, though, maybe he could drop out and go hunt with this father full time. If they ever went back to it.

The young hunter realized with a start that they had only been on one hunt since his diagnosis. His father was home all the time. All free time had been spent hanging out with Gray or Kelsey. Dean realized that he wasn't even really looking out for Sam. His father had been doing that. Did they even need him?

Realizing that he didn't need to go down that line of thought, Dean knew that he had to call his father and tell him about his detention. _That should go over real well._ He glanced at his watch and saw that he had enough time.

"Hey dad," Dean greeted when John got on the line.

_"Dean, what's up?" John asked._

"I have detention," Dean said simply.

John couldn't help the sigh that came out of him. He should have expected this. "I had a feeling this was coming," John said. "I thought I told you not to cause a scene, Jonathan Dean."

"I..." Dean started and then his father cut him off.

"I thought I told you to ignore everyone. Did you get caught fighting?"

"No. If I had, don't you think I'd be in Dr. Dick's office right now, with him happily signing expulsion papers," Dean said sarcastically.

"Okay, point taken, but Dean, you should know better than to react to a bunch of idiots."

"But dad..." Dean said, trying to explain to his father that it hadn't been only him.

"Look, I have to get back to work. I'll pick you up afterwards."

"Never mind," Dean snapped. "I'll get home myself." Dean didn't want to go home for what was sure to turn into a lecture.

"Don't take that tone with me, young man. I'll pick you up. Just make sure you're there."

Dean slammed the phone down. He stood there for a minute, staring at it. He made a quick decision. He didn't care how mad his dad got. He dropped another quarter in the slot and dialled a familiar number.

"Hello," Bobby said in a rushed tone.

"Hey Bobby," Dean greeted the elder hunter. "Did I get you at a bad time?"

"Yeah, I'm just in the middle of something," Bobby said.

"Oh," Dean said softly. "Never mind, sorry to bug you."

"Dean, don't hang up, son. What's on your mind?"

"I was, um, I was just wondering if you needed any help around the salvage yard this afternoon," Dean said hopefully.

_Damn it, why did this have to happen now, Bobby thought to himself sadly. _Dean needed him, but he really had to go out of town and meet with Dante. If he missed this meeting, he wouldn't get another chance. "Ah, sorry Dean. I have to go out of town. Caleb needs help with a hunt. I should be home in about 3 or 4 days though. I could use lots of help then."

"Okay," Dean repeated.

It was so low that Bobby had trouble hearing him. "Dean, if you need to get away for a while, you're still welcome here, even if I'm not home. You have a key to the house and the garage."

"Kay. Thanks Bobby. Hope you and Caleb get the son of a bitch."

"Take care, Dean," Bobby said.

"You too. Bye Bobby," Dean said and hung up the phone.

_Now what, Dean__wondered_. Yes, he could go to Bobby's, but without the elder hunter there, it just wasn't the same. Sure, Dean loved going to the salvage yard, but it wasn't Bobby's home that was Dean's refuge, or the place he felt comfortable enough in to remove his mask, it was Bobby himself. If Bobby wasn't there, it was just another empty place. Dean turned and started down the hall.

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Bobby was rushing around, trying to get things taken care of. He had to be at the airport soon and he had just finished arranging for someone to look after the place.

When you had Dante doing you a favour, it was a three part process. Everything was done on his schedule. You met with him initially and paid the deposit, or consulting fee as Dante referred to it. When he located the object in question, you had to meet with him to pay the second instalment for his expenses. If he couldn't get it, you didn't get your money back, he kept the payment as compensation for his troubles. If he got his hands on it, you met one final time for the final payment.

Whatever price Dante named, you agreed to pay. There was no negotiating. Bobby had emptied out his savings and his investments to pay the deposit. He'd gone to the bank to get a second mortgage on his garage to pay the expenses. He had no idea where he was going to get the final instalment, but he hoped that he would be able to come up with something.

He was just in the middle of packing when he got the call from Dean, and he really hated himself for having to turn Dean away when he had promised that he never would, but this trip couldn't be put off, it was for the greater good. He was just zipping up his suitcase when the doorbell rang. He really hoped it wasn't Dean. He wouldn't have put it past him to ditch school and show up here. Bobby sighed when the door bell rang again and he glanced out the window to see who it was. He was surprised when he saw Gray standing on his porch.

"Hello Gray. What can I do for you?" Bobby asked.

"I hope this isn't a bad time, but I was wondering if I could talk to you," Gray requested.

Bobby glanced at his watch again. He had about a half hour, so he invited Gray in. "Aren't you supposed to be in school?" Bobby asked.

Gray shrugged. "I cut afternoon classes. I just told my teachers that I had something to do for the Academic Elite and they said fine."

"What's on your mind, son? I'm guessing this has to do with Dean."

"Yes sir," Gray confirmed. "I know I hurt him, but I don't know how to get him to talk to me. I guess I just want to understand why he acted the way he did."

_Because he just might have saved all your lives,_ was what Bobby wished he could say. "Sit down," Bobby said and gestured toward his couch. He couldn't believe that what he was about to say. "You told Dean to stop being on guard all the time, right?"

"Yeah, but I just wanted to see him have some fun. I mean, I know that he was upset that Ben stole your book, but it's not like the séance was real or anything," Gray said in confusion.

"Did Dean tell you anything about his mother's death?" Bobby inquired.

"Not much. I know that she died in a fire when he was four and that his father had a hard time coping afterward."

"Gray, I'm giving you my trust. What I am about to tell you goes no further than this room. We never had this conversation," Bobby said very seriously.

"Alright," Gray instantly agreed.

"First, Dean's mother did die in a fire when he was four. The fire started with an electrical short in the ceiling in Sam's nursery. Mary must have gone to feed Sam when the fire started," Bobby lied. He wasn't about to tell the boy the real truth. "John had fallen asleep downstairs and heard his wife scream. I'm not exactly sure what happened next, but Dean left his room and found his father in the hall with Sam in his arms. His mom was in the nursery that, by this point, was completely consumed by fire. We can't be 100 percent sure, but there was a good chance that Dean got a glimpse of his mother burning to death. John put Sam into Dean's arms and told him to run while he tried to go back for Mary, but it was too late."

Gray wasn't sure what to say so he decided the best thing to do would be to remain silent. Bobby continued.

"His father did have a hard time coping, but what Dean didn't tell you was that he was the one that looked after everything after the fire. He was the one that got up with his brother in the night to change his diapers. He made sure his brother was fed and entertained. He even looked after his father."

"He was four," Gray said in disbelief.

"Yeah, a four year old that was suddenly thrust into the role of an adult. He appointed himself as a protector and not just to his family either, to anyone that seemed to be in danger. During that séance, all Dean saw was you all putting yourself in harm's way, it didn't matter to him if the danger was real or perceived. He reacted the only way he knew how, by stopping it. So when you told Dean to stop being on guard..."

"I pretty much told him to stop being who he was," Gray finished.

"Exactly. He knows deep down you didn't mean anything. Just give him sometime okay. He'll come around."

"I will, Bobby, and thanks for telling me. I promise it goes no further than this room."

"Now, son I hate to do this, but I need to get going. Please call me and let me know what happened though."

"I will," Gray confirmed. He walked out of Bobby's home with a new understanding of his friend. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like for Dean after the fire. To be four years old, traumatized, and from the sounds of it, there was no one to really comfort the small boy, and as much as Gray complained about his parents, the thought of seeing either of them burning to death caused him to shudder. He decided that it was time to patch things up with Dean and he knew just how to do it.

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Gray drove back to school. He immediately went to the motor pool and found Dean's father and told him what had happened in the hallway. That Dean had only reacted when he had thought that Ben might have hurt Kelsey, that it shouldn't have been just Dean with detention, and that he would give Dean a ride home. If Dean couldn't escape, he'd have to talk to him. John told Gray that it was a good idea but it left him feeling bad. He had accused Dean, again, without the full story.

When Dean got out of detention later that day, he found Gray, not his father, sitting out in front his building.

"Hop in, I'll give you a lift," Gray offered.

"I'll walk," Dean said.

"Dean, please, I just want to say that I'm sorry."

That stopped Dean is his tracks. He couldn't really remember someone apologizing to him, and sounding as if they meant it. Not only that, but Gray's tone also indicated that he felt the whole thing had been his fault. Dean slowly turned back.

"Please Dean, can we talk?" Gray asked.

"Okay," Dean eventually agreed and climbed into Gray's car. Knowing Dean's schedule, he drove through a drive through and got them both something to eat and then they drove to the park.

"Dean, about the party. I swear I had no idea what they were planning. Cody called me and said that he needed some candles. I tend not to question things sometimes. I suspect they wanted you to think I was involved."

"Why did you tell me to relax then, when I wouldn't go along with your stupid plan?"

"I don't know. I guess I knew how the others would see it and wanted to stop that," Gray explained.

"I..." Dean started and trailed off, trying to think of a believable reason why he had stopped the séance.

"I don't care why, Dean. I just want you to know that I'm sorry."

"How did Ben know about my mom?" Dean accused suddenly.

"I promise I didn't tell. I wouldn't do that to you. The only thing I can guess, is that you never talk about her. I don't think you've mentioned her once in front of the others. It wouldn't take a genius to figure it out and we both know that Ben's not a genius, like us."

Despite himself, Dean smiled at Gray's remark. "I guess that could be it," he conceded.

"You know, Dean, I have to confess something. You know all those times I told you we couldn't go to my house because my parents were entertaining?"

"Yeah," Dean said.

"Well, I lied. We could have gone, I mean, you've seen the size of my house, it would have been easy to get lost. I wasn't ashamed of you," Gray added quickly before Dean could get the wrong idea. "It was just that I liked going over to your house a whole lot more."

"You what?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"Yeah. I felt so much more at home there. You're so lucky, Dean."

"About what? Being the school outcast, having a stupid disease?"

"No, having a family, man."

"You have a family," Dean replied.

"I have parents and a brother and a sister. Look at how your family reacted to your diabetes. Your father never left your side when you were in the hospital. Your dad and brother follow your diet. If that was my family, my father would have called from the office to make sure I wasn't dead. If I wasn't, he'd go back to work. I told you I had my tonsils out a couple of years ago, well my father didn't visit once. My mother would turn it into a pity party for herself. My brother and sister would take every opportunity they had to rub it in. Even your father's friends did what they could to accommodate you. There's no way my father's friends would do that. I don't even know if my father's friends know my father has kids. This may sound cliché, but while I may have money, you're the one who's rich."

Dean couldn't stop the snicker that came out of him. "That sounds so corny, dude," he replied.

"I know, but it's true, so forgive me?" Gray asked.

"On one condition," Dean replied. "Will you forgive me for not trusting you?"

"Deal," Gray said stuck out his hand.

Dean reached over and shook it and felt like he'd had a weight lifted off his shoulders.

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Dean wished that he could say life at school got easier after his talk with Gray, but it didn't. Ben's nickname of Wimpchester had spread throughout the school and Dean found that was all anyone called him these days, except Gray. Gray also continued to sit next to Dean in the lunchroom as well.

Two weeks after his return to school, Dean was sitting home with his father, watching TV. Sam had gone to the movies with Randy, Max and Conner. Dean was just glad that his troubles with Ben hadn't affected Sam's friendships. There was a ring at the door and John rose to answer it and Dean was surprised when his father returned with Kelsey in tow, telling Dean that she had to talk to him. John told Dean he needed to call Bobby and he would us the phone in his room to give them some privacy.

"Dean, l never meant to hurt you that night," Kelsey said after they had exchanged pleasantries.

"Then why did you say that stuff? You said that I ruined your fun and that my diabetes was a real drag for you. I can't change that, Kelsey."

"I know that. I don't have an excuse, Dean, except that I was drunk," Kelsey tried to apologize.

"I know that, but did you mean it?" Dean wanted to know.

"I didn't mean it like it sounded. You don't ruin my fun, Dean. I never felt that way, but to be honest, I did sometimes resent the fact that you had to be home by 12. Sometimes I wasn't ready to leave when you had to. I never minded your diabetes, I swear. It's just that night I wanted alcohol..." Kelsey trailed off. "I don't really have any excuse, but I'm so sorry."

"Kelsey, can I ask you something?" Dean requested. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"What is it?" She had a feeling that she knew what he was about to ask.

"I was talking to Ben at school and he was kind of bragging that you and he... well, you know. Did he hurt you?" Dean asked gently.

"No. I made some really bad choices that night and I'm paying for it now. I've been sick every morning this week, and I'm late. I took a home test this morning and found out that I'm pregnant," Kelsey admitted with a sigh. She had no idea how she was going to tell her parents.

_**"JONATHAN DEAN WINCHESTER JR..." **_An angry voice called out behind him.

Dean turned around and saw his father looking furious. John had just finished talking to Bobby and had headed toward the kitchen to start dinner and had walked by the room just in time to hear Kelsey's last statement.

"Dad, I can explain," Dean tried.

"Don't dad me, young man. We had a talk. What are we supposed to do?"

"Dad please, the baby's not mine..." Dean tried again.

_**"Now you're trying to deny your responsibility. God, Dean,**__**I thought I raised**__**you better than that. I don't think I have ever been as disappointed in you as I am right now!" **_John thundered.

Dean instantly deflated. He hadn't done anything and he still managed to screw up. That had to be some kind of record.

"Mr. Winchester, don't be mad at Dean, please," Kelsey said intervening on Dean's behalf. "I got drunk and did something stupid at the party. The baby's not Dean's," she confirmed.

"Dad, can I have a minute?" Dean asked. He turned back to Kelsey. "Thanks for coming by. I understand that drinking can impair judgement, but maybe it would be best if we took a little break from each other. I'll always care about you, though," Dean said. Even though Dean said taking a break, they both knew they were breaking up.

"It may be for the best. For what it's worth, I never meant for this to happen. I do care about you," Kelsey said and then left. Despite what had happened, and what he'd said, Dean felt like she was taking his heart with her. Kelsey had been the first girl he'd ever really cared about.

"Dean," John said addressing his eldest. Dean was experiencing his first broken heart. He really didn't know what to say, but he needed to say something, especially after what he had just accused him of. He really needed to stop reacting without thinking. If there was one thing Dean would never do, it would be to deny responsibility. The boy was more responsible than him sometimes.

"Forget it, dad. I'm sorry I screwed up, but I told you that the baby's not mine. I mean, I never... me and Kelsey didn't..."

"I'm the one who's sorry, kiddo. I should have waited until I had all the facts."

"But you never do," slipped out of Dean's mouth. _Uh oh, did I say that out loud. _

"Excuse me," John replied.

"You always do that. Like in the restaurant, when you caught me putting that syringe back in my case to get rid of later, you automatically thought I was going to reuse it. Or that time I got detention at school. You didn't let me explain, just like now. I tried to tell you that the baby wasn't mine, but you didn't believe me until Kelsey said it first. I wouldn't deny it if I was the father. I couldn't," Dean snapped. _I think I'd better check my blood sugar. If he gets mad, that will be my story. _

John thought about what Dean was saying and he realized that his son was right, but stubborn pride wouldn't let him admit that. "Look at it from my side. I did catch you reusing syringes and then I hear your girlfriend say she's pregnant. What am I supposed to think?"

"You're not supposed to think. You ask me for the whole story," Dean snapped. Knowing he was digging himself in deeper, he grabbed his jacket and the car keys and stormed out the door. John didn't ask where Dean was going, he knew. He just called Bobby and asked the other hunter to call him when Dean got there. He knew he'd screwed things up badly with his son.

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The next day at school, things continued to go down hill for Dean. He had taken a social studies test a few days ago and they were supposed to get the results back today. Dean had studied long and hard for his test and he was confident that he had done well. Mr. Wright walked up and down rows and handed Dean back his test. Dean was concerned by words 'see me', written in red ink. He quickly glanced through the test and realized that with the check marks, he had scored a 94. He wondered what was wrong.

"You wanted to see me, sir," Dean addressed his teacher after the class had left. He noticed that Jamie was there as well.

"Jonathan, Jamison, please take out your tests and put them side by side," Mr. Wright requested.

Both boys did as asked and laid their tests on the teacher's desk. Dean noticed the same words written on Jamie's paper. "You both got a 94 on the test, but if you notice, you each got the exact same questions wrong, and got them wrong with the exact same answers. There is virtually no chance of that happening unless one of you cheated off the other."

"I didn't cheat," both boys said in unison.

"One of you did," Mr. Wright stated.

"Mr. Wright, I have been at this school since kindergarten and I have a pretty good academic record, why would I all of a sudden decide to cheat now. Wim... I mean Jonathan here just started a few months ago..." Jamie trailed off, his insinuation plain.

"I have reviewed both your academic records and Jamison, what you are saying is true. Jonathan, you almost failed English, then, suddenly, your grades seem to have picked up, not to mention when they are compared with records from your previous school."

Dean felt his heartbeat increase. He was the one that was going to be blamed for this? He never cheated on his schoolwork. "It doesn't prove anything, sir. I studied hard for this test."

"I think the evidence speaks for itself. Jamison, you may head to your next class. Jonathan, we are going to take a walk to Dr. Webber's office. This is a very serious offence."

"I didn't do anything, sir. You can't judge who did..."

"Enough sauce, boy. You will come with me and not say another word."

Dean just followed. What was the point of sticking up for himself? No one ever listened anyway.

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Dr. Richard Webber was sitting behind his desk trying not to smile. It was no wonder the Winchester boy was doing so well when he was cheating. He finally had cause to get rid of him. His asked his secretary to call down to the motor pool and have Dean's father join them in the office.

It wasn't long before Dean and his social studies teacher showed up. Dr. Webber asked Dean to explain his actions and Dean stated once again that he hadn't cheated, but Dr. Webber wouldn't listen.

John had gotten word that Dean was in trouble and in the principal's office. His first thought was that Dean had been in a fight, but he remembered what Dean had said to him the day before, about not jumping to conclusions. He entered the office and looked over at his son. He had never seen his boy looking so dejected.

"Mr. Winchester, have a seat."

"What's going on?" he asked as he sat next to Dean.

"Your son has been caught cheating," Mr. Wright explained.

John glanced at Dean who seemed to slump even further. John realized that Dean was thinking that he was going to agree with them, but he knew that there was no way, his son was would never do this.

"This is very serious, Mr. Winchester, and as you know, there is a zero tolerance policy on cheating. So it is my decision to expel Jonathan Winchester Jr. from the Westcott Preparatory Academy," Dr. Webber said with a self satisfied smirk.

John took a deep breath and Dean knew that his father was about to explode. He braced himself for the lecture he knew was about to come his way. He was surprised though, when he realized that he wasn't the subject of his father's wrath.

_**"YOU'LL DO NO SUCH THING!" **_John roared at the headmaster. "What kind of proof do you have?"

"The boy's academic records speak for themselves," Dr. Webber said, trying to justify his actions.

"That's it? That's all the proof you have? The word of one boy over the other and some past grades. You've been looking for any excuse and I'm telling you right now, you are not expelling my boy."

"Mr. Winchester..." Mr. Wright started.

"Don't you dare. I don't know what your problem is either, Wright. Dean's on the academic team. How's he supposed to cheat there? Did you talk to his other teachers and get their opinions on whether or not they think Dean was succeeding based on cheating. If they thought he was, why would they ask him to join the advanced program? You've simply made assumptions based on personal opinion. When you find some proof, then you can expel him, until then, Dean will be in class on Monday. I'll go to board if you fight me on this," John threatened.

"Um, I'll take your concerns under advisment," Dr. Webber said. He really didn't want to get the board involved. Too many under the table deals might have come to light if that were the case. "Meet us back here on Monday and we'll get this straightened out."

"That's better, come on, Dean," John ordered.

"Coming," Dean said, and followed his father out the door.

"Dean," John addressed his son when they left the office. "I know that I'm supposed to get the whole story from you first, but I felt that this was a situation where it was okay."

"You don't think it was me?" Dean asked.

"'Course not. I know you, Dean. I know that this is something you would never do," John confirmed.

"Thanks, dad," Dean said sincerely. He had to admit that it was kind of nice to have someone stick up for you.

Before John could say anything else, his cell rang. It was the hospital, saying that Bobby had been admitted. What had happened?

Please remeber to feed the muse. Read and Review.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

_The day before_.

Bobby Singer sat at his kitchen table, staring at the phone. He had been in that position for the last hour and a half. He still needed to raise the money to make his final payment to Dante and there was only one way he could think of to do that. He had to ask a friend to borrow the money and the only person who had the money he needed was Joshua. It wasn't that Bobby was ashamed to ask for the money, he just didn't want to deal with the lecture that he was sure to get for having contacted Dante in the first place. Joshua could be downright scary when he got mad.

With a sigh, Bobby picked up the receiver and dialed.

_"Hello," a voice greeted._

"Joshua, that you?" Bobby asked.

_"Yeah, who's this?" Joshua asked._

"It's me, Bobby."

_"Hey Bobby, what's up? I'm guessing this isn't a social call."_

"No," Bobby confirmed. "I need a favour. I need to borrow some money." Bobby knew there was no beating around the bush.

_"What are you into?" Joshua questioned suspiciously. _

"I had a friend do a favour for me and I'm still a bit short," Bobby said vaguely.

Joshua thought about Bobby's request, he wouldn't deny him the money, but what could he need it for? He knew that Bobby wasn't rich, but his business was a success and he was financially sound. Then a thought occured to Joshua, if Bobby needed money, then he had already taken advantage of all other avenues, and there was only one person Bobby would do that for. "_Is Dean alright?" Joshua questioned. _

"He's fine, except for a few problems at school," Bobby said and filled Joshua in on the whole story.

Joshua felt his heart ache for John's eldest when he heard the story. He was glad to hear that Dean and his friend had patched things up, though. _"You can have the money,__Bobby."_

"Why do I hear a 'but'?" Bobby said cautiously.

_"There is one. You have to tell me why you need the money. It's for Dean, isn't it? Bobby, what did you do?" Joshua wanted to know._

"I, ah, well, I heard about this amulet that..."

_"You're talking about the Amulet of Harmonia, aren't you?"_

"Yeah. Legend has it that..."

_"I know the legend, Bobby," Joshua interrupted sharply and a sudden thought occured to him. "Bobby, please tell me that__you didn't contact Dante to find it for you."_

"Well..." Bobby began only to be interrupted a third time.

_"Damn it Bobby, of all the stupid, idiotic things someone can do, that tops the list," Joshua lectured. "You know how dangerous the man can be. Bobby, I know you did this for Dean. I know you care about him like a son, but tell me, is his blood sugar out of control? Is he having complications?"_

"No," Bobby admitted.

_"Millions of people live with diabetes, Bobby. I've kept in contact with John, standard therapy is working for Dean."_

"Standard therapy?" Bobby scoffed. "I'll share a number with you. 90720. That's approximately how many needles Dean's looking at over the course of his lifetime. Want to know how I arrived at that number? I did the math, sitting next to his hospital bed, watching him being fed through a tube," Bobby said defensively.

_Joshua sighed. He knew how sick Dean had gotten. "You don't..."_

"Spare me the medical advancement speech alright," Bobby huffed, guessing that Joshua was about to inform him about the ground breaking research that was being done with diabetes. "I've made my decision, now are you going to lend me the money or not?"

_"What does John have to say about it?" Joshua asked, changing the subject. _

"I didn't ask. It was my choice. If this make's Dean's life just a little bit easier, then it's worth it," Bobby replied.

_"What if it makes his life harder, did you think about that?"_

"How can that be? He'd be free of the needles."

_"Yes, he would,__but think about it,__Bobby, don't forget you're making Dean a target. There are a number of people who would love to get their hands on this amulet," Joshua cautioned. _

"There's only a handful of people that even know that this thing exists, and even fewer that know exactly what it does," Bobby reasoned.

_"Some of those people are more ruthless than Dante. Don't you think John has a right to know that?" Joshua cautioned. _

"The only reason John hasn't gone after this thing is because he doesn't know about it," Bobby stated firmly.

_Joshua had to concede that Bobby had a point. "Against my better judgement,__I'll wire you the money, but Bobby, please be careful, alright? I know what those boys mean__to you,__but just remember what you mean to them as well," Joshua warned. _

"I swear, you're channelling Jefferson. He said the same thing."

_"I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but the kid has a point," he said with a chuckle. _

"Thanks Joshua," Bobby said sincerely.

Joshua said his goodbyes and wondered if he was going soft.

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_The next day_

Bobby had just returned from the bank. He now had the final payment, all he had to do was wait for Dante's call. He was surprised when the man called that very afternoon.

_Ring Ring_

"Hello," Bobby answered.

_"Today, noon at the abandoned warehouse on Kent St," was all the voice said before disconnecting. _

Bobby hung up the phone and went to his weapons locker, where he retrieved and strapped a knife around his ankle. He really wanted to bring a gun, but Dante would frisk him to make sure he wasn't packing. Kent Street was the place where all the city's lowlifes hung out, drug dealers, gang members, and all sorts of other unsavoury characters. It wouldn't be good to go down there unarmed, especially with the type of money he was carrying. Dante accepted cash only.

Bobby watched the clock like a hawk, he didn't want to get there too late because Dante wouldn't wait, too early wouldn't be good either though, because he really didn't want to be in that area of town for too long.

Finally, at 11:30, he got into his pick-up truck and headed out. He really hoped this went well.

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Carl and Anthony Petrelli were two brothers who controlled most of the drug trafficking in the Kent Street area. They didn't like outsiders on their turf and when they saw the unfamiliar blue pick up pull into an abandoned warehouse, they were immediately suspicious.

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The man known only as Dante pulled up by the warehouse shortly after Bobby. He was a hardened man and his entire demeanour radiated 'stay away, I'm dangerous' He had coal black hair that was pulled back into a messy pony tail, his eyes a dark brown, so dark they could almost be black, and they looked as mean as the rest of him. He had a long scar down the side of his right cheek, and few would dare ask him where he got it. Most didn't even want to know. His clothes were surprisingly well tailored though, a sign that he was extremely wealthy.

He had first found out about the supernatural when he was just 15. Something, not human, had taken his little sister and no one had believed him. When her body was discovered a few days later, he had been blamed and convicted and spent the next several years in a juvenile detention facility. When he got out, he had lived on the streets for a while, until he met Carrick. Carrick was a hunter, and he had taken the boy under his wing. He had been the only one to believe Dante about his sister.

Dante had assisted Carrick on an exorcism once, and the family had been so grateful that they had offered to pay the man. Carrick had turned them down. He had said it was all about saving people. Dante saw then that there was money to be made. He'd had a knife made of pure iron that his mentor had given him, he had said it would repel evil. Someone had seen it one night and offered to buy it. Dante had sold it for a good price without thinking twice.

He had been in the back cleaning the weapons one night when he'd heard a man come in. He had heard an argument break out between this newcomer and Carrick. Apparently, this guy wanted a centuries old mojo bag that Carrick had. He needed it to complete a spell, but the old man didn't want to give it to him.

Dante met with him a while later and asked how much it was worth to him. Dante made the deal and then killed Carrick in his sleep. The old man hadn't even realized that his protégé had turned on him. Dante sold the mojo bag and everything else Carrick had owned, making a small fortune.

When he had gotten a call asking about the Amulet of Harmonia, it was his one of his biggest paydays to date. Upon arriving at the rendevous point, he saw Singer sitting in his truck and montioned him over.

Bobby reluctantly got out of his truck, wishing the other man had parked closer. Dante exited his vehicle and made sure that Bobby didn't have a gun. He accepted the duffle bag of money and Dante then handed him a small package. Bobby safely tucked it into a hidden pocket in his jacket. Before he could say anything though, Dante had gotten back in his car and taken off. He turned to head back to his truck and realized that he was in big trouble.

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"What did you make of that Tony?" Carl Petrelli addressed his brother as they saw the second car pull in.

"I don't know, but it seems like he's doin' business on our turf and I don' recall him asking permission. I say we need to teach this guy a lesson. If he's gonna be down here, he needs to cut us in," Tony replied.

"I was thinking the same thing," Carl said. "Go get Rico and Spike. We got to have a little chat." Tony disappeared, going to get their bodyguards.

There was a backdoor to the warehouse that the men used to slip inside. When Bobby turned around, he saw four men the size of line backers, standing between him and the truck. He reached his hand behind him, to make it look like he was drawing a gun.

"You wouldn't happen to be packin' there, slick?" Carl said as Tony, Rico and Spike pulled guns on him.

_That didn't go over so well, Bobby thought. _He found himself wishing he'd brought back up. He couldn't believe that after everything, it was going to be some dumb punks who thought they were big shots that could ruin everything. Half the things Bobby dealt with would have had these idiots running home to their mommies in tears.

"You see, this here's our turf, and we don't like strangers," Carl said, the gun still aimed at Bobby.

"Unless you give us a piece of the action," Tony added.

"What action?" Bobby said playing dumb. "I do his dry cleaning. He was going out of town and asked me to meet him here to give it to him."

Tony walked up and punched Bobby hard in the stomach. "Don't get smart. What are you into? Drugs? Guns? Prostitutes? Counterfeit Disney video tapes? See, we don't care as long as you cut us in. Right, Carl?" Tony said.

_Everyone's a comedian, Bobby thought. _Then he realized a way he might be able to get out of this situation. He watched as Carl gave Tony an affirmative response and Bobby noticed the look of affection between the two men. It was one the hunter had seen many times before. It was a look Dean often gave Sam. The look that said the big brother would do anything for the little brother. It was the weakness he needed, now if he could just manipulate the situation.

"You win. I got something that's new, it's in my back pocket," he said and turned his back on Tony.

Tony circled around and went to reach into the pocket Bobby had indicated. He rested his shotgun against Bobby's back, which was just what Bobby was hoping for.

"You know," Bobby said to Tony. "When you put a gun on someone, you should never put it right against their back."

"Why's that?" Tony asked.

"Because it makes it real easy to do this," Bobby replied and with lightening speed, he spun, grabbed the barrel and pulled the gun from Tony's unsuspecting hands. He grabbed the man, pulled him up against him and aimed the gun.

"Get back," Bobby threatened. "I'll kill him, I swear."

"Don't," Carl said immediately. He lowered his gun slightly and indicated for the others to do the same, just as Bobby had predicted. Carl also had that look on his face, the one Bobby had seen on Dean's hundreds of times. 'If you hurt my brother, I'll kill you.'

"This was a one time meeting," Bobby informed the men. "I don't want trouble, I'm not looking to move in. I just want to leave. No one has to get hurt."

"Let Tony go," Carl growled.

"Move away from my truck," Bobby ordered in his best impersonation of John Winchester.

The men backed away slightly and Bobby cautiously inched his way over. Just before he got there, he let go of Tony and decked him. He quickly grabbed his knife and threw it, hitting Rico in the shoulder. He didn't want to fire, because he really didn't want to hurt anyone. In the ensuing chaos, Bobby lost track of Spike. Somehow, Spike must have managed to get behind him, and Bobby felt something connect solidly with the back of his head. He immediately saw stars, but he knew that he had to keep himself from passing out or he was dead. He threw a desperate punch and was lucky enough to land a solid blow to Spike, knocking the other man out. Bobby quickly climbed into his truck and crawled behind the wheel. He ducked when a bullet shattered the windshield, just grazing his already pounding head. He managed to get the key in the ignition and floored it.

He didn't know how he managed to drive a fair distance, but he knew that he had to get help. He pulled over, checked his cell phone, and prayed to every God someone believed in for a signal. He dialled 911, gave his location and then passed out.

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Dr. Shelly Rayak and Dr. Jordan Murphy were working in the ER when a man was brought in unconscious with a head wound.

They immediately started an IV and sent him for X-Rays and a CT scan. Shelly looked through his personal effects, found the name of his emergency contact, and went to make the call.

"Hello, is this John Winchester?" she asked when her call was answered.

_"Who's__this?" the voice on the other end__demanded_.

"This is Dr. Shelly Rayak. I'm an ER attending physician at Watertown General. Do you have a brother by the name of Robert Singer?" she asked.

_"Yes. Why did__something happen? Is he alright?" John asked__frantically. _

"He was brought in unconscious with a head injury. We're running tests, but I would advise you to get down here," she said.

_"I'm on my way," John said and disconnected. _

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John hung up the phone and looked into the expressive green eyes staring back at him. How was he going to tell Dean?

"Dad, who was that?" Dean asked. He hadn't missed the frantic words. "Is it Sammy?" Dean asked fearfully.

"No, uh, it was the hospital, something happened to Bobby."

Dean's eyes grew round in disbelief at his father words. "What happened? He's okay, right? Dad, tell me he's okay." Dean looked at his father, his eyes doing the begging that his words could not express. _Oh God, if something happened to Bobby..._

John found his worry shifting to his eldest when he saw Dean go sheet white at John's words. "Dean, look at me," John said sharply. "Take a deep breath, son. Do you feel dizzy at all?" he questioned.

"What?" Dean asked. Why would he be dizzy? _Oh yeah, stress plays havoc with my blood sugar. _"I'm fine," Dean said and hoped he sounded convincing. Right now, he honestly didn't know how he felt. "I'm not the one in the hospital. Please dad, we have to go," Dean said and began pulling his father down the hallway.

"Hold up a minute, son," John requested. "We have to get your brother."

"I think he's at lunch. Come on dad, we have to go," Dean pleaded.

It didn't take John long to find Sam and after informing the school's administration office that John was taking the boys out because of a family emergency, they all piled into the Impala and headed toward the hospital. They pulled into the parking lot with a squeal of the tires. The car had barely come to halt before Dean jumped out, although John and Sam were close behind. Sam was just as worried about Bobby as his father and brother were.

"Excuse me, miss," John said to the woman behind the desk.

The receptionist put her finger up to indicate she would be done in a minute. John felt his temper grow, if the lady was on an important call that would be one thing, but she seemed to be ordering lunch. He reached over and pushed the button to disconnect the call, causing the receptionist to stare daggers at him.

"I'll make it up to you later," John replied. "Right now, my brother was bought in and I want to know how he's doing."

"Name?"

"Singer, Bobby Singer," John answered.

The receptionist looked up the name in the computer. "You are?"

"John Winchester."

"Relationship to the patient?"

_Was this lady deaf? _"Are you hard of hearing? I said he was my brother."

"I have a Robert Singer, but I'm sorry, there was no Bobby admitted."

John was really glad he wasn't packing. "His full name is Robert William Singer, he goes by Bobby though," John said slowly as if he were talking to a five year old.

"And what was he admitted for?"

_Patience, Johnny, Patience. "_I said I didn't know. I got a call telling me he had been admitted."

"Okay, I have him know. I'll let the doctor know you're here. You need to have a seat in the waiting room, Mr. Singer."

John couldn't be bothered to correct her. If he did, he didn't want to be held accountable for his actions. He just silently led his boys over to the area she indicated.

"What's taking so long?" Dean asked his father as he paced the small waiting room.

"Dean, son, it's only been 5 minutes," he admonished lightly. He was feeling the same way though.

"He'll be fine, Dean," Sam promised. He was as worried about Dean as he was Bobby. His brother was not going to take it well if something happened to the elder hunter.

"Dean, please sit down, it may be a long wait," John requested in tone that meant it was on order and Dean obeyed with a small sigh.

Fortunately, they weren't kept waiting long and they all bounded to their feet when a doctor came into the room looking for the family of Robert Singer.

"Mr. Winchester?" she said asked.

"Yes," said John. "How's my brother?"

"As we told you, he suffered a head injury. The CT scan revealed a hairline skull fracture and it looked like a bullet grazed his temple. He's still unconscious and our neurosurgeon, Dr. Finner, is in with him. He's concerned about the intracranial pressure, so right now, we have him on Manitol and are monitoring him very closely."

"What happened?" John asked.

"We're not sure. He apparently called 911 before he passed out in his truck. The cops found him and brought him here. I suspect the only way we'll know the full story is if he wakes up."

"He's waking up, doc," Sam said with conviction.

Dean had gone still. "If," he repeated softly and looked at his father, his eyes once again begging his dad to fix everything.

"Sir, is he alright?" the doctor asked with concern, looking over at Dean.

"Dean, sit down, son," John requested, as he gently pressed Dean back down in into a chair. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," Dean lied. He was feeling a bit shaky, but this wasn't about him, it was about Bobby.

John realized that he had never gotten Dean's kit from the school nurse and swore. "He's diabetic," John informed the doctor. "His meter's at school. Can you test his blood sugar for me?"

"Of course. I'll be right back," Shelly said and came back a couple of minutes later.

"Dad, who cares about my sugar. I want to see Bobby," Dean protested when he saw the supplies in the doctor's hand.

"Tell you what, buddy, you let the good doctor check you out and then we'll all go see him together, okay?" John asked gently. "He wouldn't like it if you neglected your health."

Dean sighed and gave the doctor his hand, anything to get moving. Dean's blood sugar was a bit on the low side, so Shelly advised John to get Dean something to eat soon. John walked over the vending machine and got a bag of M&Ms, then collected his sons to head up to Bobby's room. Dean just followed silently behind his dad and brother, M&M's clutched in his hand.

Once on the ICU floor, Dr. Webber said that he needed to speak to John for a few minutes, so John instructed his boys to sit and not move until he got back.

"Sam," he addressed his youngest. "Keep an eye on Dean. Watch him for hypo signs, okay? We both know he's not going to tell us about any."

"I will dad," Sam assured his father and took a seat beside his unhappy brother and tried to re-assure him that Bobby would be fine.

Dr. Finner confirmed pretty much everything Shelly had said downstairs and then, the small family was finally allowed to see Bobby, Sam's height allowing John to get away with telling the doctor that he was 15.

John had never seen Bobby look as small and vulnerable as he did in his hospital bed. He had an oxygen mask over his face, and there were several IVs, and monitors leading to machines that beeped. That they could handle, after all, they all been hooked up to the same machines at one time or another. The one that was new though, was the intracranial pressure monitor. The lead from that machine was attached to a catheter that had been inserted into the back of Bobby's head.

"It's okay," John soothed the boys. "That's what the doctor wanted to talk to me about. It's not hurting him, its helping."

Dean sat wordlessly beside the bed, causing John to begin to worry about his eldest all over again. Dean had become silent.

The next couple of hours passed with none of them saying much, Dean not speaking at all and John realized that he had a new problem. Dean's insulin was still at school along with his meter.

"Boys, wait here. I'm going to go see if I can find Dean some insulin."

"Kay dad," Sam said.

Dean just scowled.

John approached the nurses' station. "Excuse me," John said addressing the nurse working at a computer station.

"Yes," she replied, looking up from her work.

"Is Dr. Alex Conlan in tonight?" John asked.

"I'm not sure, why?"

"He's my son's doctor. My brother, Bobby Singer, was admitted and we're in his room, but my eldest has diabetes and his insulin is back at his school. I was wondering if we could get some."

"Let me see if I can get hold of him," the nurse said.

"Thank you," John replied. He watched as the nurse picked up the phone and dialled what he guessed was the switchboard.

"He's off today, but I can have him paged," the nurse offered.

"Can you bring up his file? I really don't want to leave with my brother..." John trailed off.

"What's his name?"

"Dean Winchester, but it might be under Jonathan Winchester Jr."

The nurse looked up the information. "I'm still going to have to page Dr. Conlan, he would need to authorize it."

"Do you know how long that will take?" John asked.

"Hopefully not too long," she replied. "I can find you in Mr. Singer's room?"

"Yes, thank you," John replied and headed back down the hall.

About a half hour later, she showed up with a syringe, saying that Dr. Conlan had called back. She handed Dean the syringe and said that she needed to take back the needle. Grumbling, Dean injected his meds, recapped the needle and then handed it back to the nurse.

"Sammy, Dean," John said reaching into his pocket. "It's just about time for supper, Dean. I want the two of you to go to the cafeteria and get something to eat. A proper meal," he insisted.

"I'm not hungry," came the expected reply from Dean.

"Dean," John said warningly and gave Sam a pointed look.

Sam picked up on what John was saying immediately. If he ate, he stood a chance of getting Dean to. "Dean, I'm hungry," Sam said and gave his brother his best puppy dog eyes. "I don't want to be alone right now, will you go to the cafeteria with me?"

Dean melted instantly. "You'll come find me if something happens?"

"Promise, kiddo," John said softly, placing a reassuring pat on Dean's shoulder.

Dean reluctantly followed Sam out of the room and John considered it a success that they weren't back for an hour. When they did return, Dean immediately resumed his post at Bobby's side.

"Sam?" John prompted softly.

"He ate, he had a BLT sandwich with French fries and I made him drink milk with his dinner as well. He also ate an apple on the way back from the cafeteria.

"Thanks, Sammy," John said, his eyes showing his gratitude.

"No, problem. Dad, Bobby's gonna be okay, right?" Sam said sounding as young as his 12 years.

John reached out and put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "It's Bobby," he said confidently.

After Sam was settled in a chair next to his brother, so he could watch both him and Bobby at the Sam time, John excused himself briefly to call Gray to see if he could go by the school the next day and pick up Dean's kit. Gray agreed right away and told John that he hoped Bobby would be okay.

The rest of Friday, and Saturday passed with no improvement. Bobby remained unconscious causing the Winchesters' worry to increase. The good news was that he wasn't getting any worse.

Sunday rolled around and John and the boys continued their vigil at Bobby's beside. Just after supper, John knew he was in for a real argument though.

"Boys, I'm going to take you home tonight. You have school tomorrow and Dean, you have an appointment with your headmaster."

"I'm not going anywhere," Dean said firmly.

"I want to stay with Dean and Bobby," Sam said faithfully.

"The hospital has my cell number. They'll call us if anything happens."

"No," Dean said stubbornly.

"Boys," John said in a warning tone. "You can't miss school."

"One day isn't going to hurt, dad. It's Bobby," Sam protested.

"It's just..."

"That stupid principal, it's not going to make a difference if I'm there anyway," Dean pointed out.

"I know you didn't cheat, Dean, and the headmaster is going to see that," John insisted.

"I don't care what he thinks," Dean snapped. "I'm not going."

"Enough, Jonathan Dean. You're going to school tomorrow and that's that. I won't tolerate any more lip."

"Dad, can I stay with Bobby tomorrow while you take Dean to the meeting?" Sam asked politely.

"If Sammy stays, I stay," Dean replied.

"You're both going to school tomorrow and that's an order," John said in a drill sergeant's tone.

Both Sam and John watched as Dean slumped and both expected a 'yes sir' from Dean, but they both knew he was never predictable.

"I'm not going back tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. They don't want me there, isn't that obvious? No matter what I do, it's never good enough for them. I might as well just drop out. It's not like I need to go for college anyway," Dean let loose.

"You're not dropping out of school, Dean," John announced.

"But..."

"No buts," John said cutting off Dean's protest. "Just think about everything you've accomplished there, both of you. You _**are **_good enough and don't you ever forget it."

"You're not the one that has to put up with it all. Did you know the entire school calls me Wimpchester? _**I'm sick of it, and I don't want to do it anymore," **_Dean snapped. He couldn't hold it in any longer. He really wanted to storm out of the room, but he didn't want to leave Bobby.

"Dean," Sam said. "What about Gray? School's not all that bad."

Dean was in no mood to be placated. "What about him? He's the only person who's nice to me. I don't want to do it any more," Dean repeated. "I want to hunt and I don't need school for that."

John's mood and temper matched his sons and when he got upset, he often spoke without thinking, and he replied with the worst possible thing he could have said. "I told you you're not dropping out. How would your mother react? She was a teacher and she'd have been so disappointed in you if you dropped out."

Both Sam and John watched as all the fight left Dean. To John, it looked like Dean's eyes misted up, but it was gone in a flash. "Alright, I'll go tomorrow," Dean conceded quietly.

John reached out a hand to put it on Dean's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he tried to apologize and wasn't surprised when Dean shook it off.

"No, you're right. Come on Sammy," Dean said to his brother, his gaze never really leaving Bobby.

The eldest Winchester really wanted to kick himself. Why did he always insert his foot into his mouth where his eldest was concerned? "No, you boys can stay here. I'll deal with Dr. Dick," John said. "That's on the condition, Dean, that you promise to look after yourself."

"I promise," Dean said instantly, his mood doing a 180 after his dad told him he could stay with Bobby.

John really wondered if he was going soft.

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While John was at the school the following day, Dean and Sam took turns going to the cafeteria, so they wouldn't have to leave Bobby alone. When Sam went for his lunch, Dean reached out and tentatively took Bobby's hand.

"Hey Bobby," he said softly. "How's that new truck you got coming along? Maybe I could help you fix it up. I was thinking about asking dad if I could get a job and start saving for my own car. It would be so much easier. I, um, well, you know I really suck at small talk," Dean said with a small grin. The doctor had encouraged him to talk to Bobby.

"You know what else I suck at? Chick-flick moments, so bear with me a moment. I just, um, I just wanted to say that some of my favourite memories are working with you in the garage, arguing over the radio station and just messing around," Dean said. "I ah…" Dean stopped and had to force down his emotions. Dean Winchester didn't cry, _**EVER!**_

"I wanted to say that I really hope you get better. I need you, Bobby," Dean pleaded. "I um, well, that is to say, I just want you to know that, um, that Iloveyou," Dean finished in a rush, and this time, he was unable to stop a single tear running down his cheek.

He lifted his hand to wipe it away when he saw two brown eyes staring back at him.

TBC


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

This chapter contains a chapter for episode 10

Thanks to Soar, JuliaAurelia, and Sinead-Conlan for all their help with this chapter.

Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

"I wanted to say that I really hope you get better, I need you, Bobby," Dean pleaded. "I um, well, that is to say, I just want you to know that um, that Iloveyou," Dean finished in a rush, and this time he was unable to stop a single tear running down his cheek.

He raised his hand to wipe it away when he saw two brown eyes staring back at him. "Bobby?" he questioned softly.

Bobby blinked against the blinding pain and pressure he could feel inside his skull. He knew from the tell tale antiseptic smell, sterile green walls, the beep of his heart monitor and the low hiss of oxygen that he was in a hospital.

"Bobby," Dean said again, a little more frantically when the elder hunter failed to answer his first query.

Bobby blinked once more. "Hey," he answered.

Bobby's voice was hoarse and muffled, but to Dean, it sounded like heaven. He reached over and pushed the call button for the nurse, just as Bobby's eyes started to drift shut once more.

"Stay awake!" Dean said sharply. He knew he should let the older man go back to sleep, but now that he was awake, Dean was afraid of him lapsing back into unconsciousness.

"Everything okay?" a nurse asked stepping into the room.

"He's awake," Dean said, a touch of relief in his voice.

"Let me get the doctor," the nurse said with a gentle smile. She stepped out of the room and returned with the doctor a couple of minutes later.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Singer?" Dr. Finner inquired.

"Aside from a killer headache you mean?"

"You have a hairline skull fracture, so it's not surprising that you have a headache," the doctor explained and glanced at the intracranial pressure monitor. He then did a quick neurological exam, having Bobby answer a few simple questions and follow the movements of his finger. "Your ICP is holding steady, that's a good sign."

"My what?" Bobby asked in confusion.

"ICP is intracranial pressure. This lead here," Dr. Finner said pointing. "Is measuring the pressure inside your head. As long as that number stays between 8 and 18, I'll be happy."

All eyes drifted over to the monitor and were relieved to see the number 12. "He's going to be okay?" Dean asked sounding much younger than his 16 years.

"He's awake, alert, and has good ICP readings, it looks promising," Dr. Finner said. "When you're dealing with head injuries, it's best to be cautious, so I'm going to order another CT to check on things and if your ICP remains steady, we'll remove the monitor tomorrow."

"Thanks doc," Dean said sincerely. "Should I keep him awake?"

The doctor raised an eyebrow at the teenager before him. "He's 16," Bobby explained tiredly. "He's had a concussion before."

"Alright, you can go back to sleep now and I'll be back in about an hour to take you for some tests."

"I'll be here," Bobby confirmed, his eyes drifting shut.

Dean sat back down next to Bobby's bed fighting the urge to keep him awake.

Hearing the rustle next to him, Bobby forced his tired eyes open. "Hey Dean," he said.

"Yeah, do you need something, Bobby?"

"No," Bobby said and let his eyes shut and just before he let sleep claim him once more, he said, "Just wanted to say that I, uh, love you too, kiddo."

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While his boys were at the hospital, John made his way down the corridor toward the headmaster's office. He really wished that he had insisted that Dean be here. He had a feeling that the headmaster was going to try and use it against him, but he just couldn't make his eldest leave. He felt too guilty after what he had said to him. He really hated himself sometimes.

He was waved in by the receptionist and he knew he was in for a battle when he saw that Dr. Dick was chatting in a friendly manner with the Wallingfords, and that they appeared to be on a first name basis. Their little brat was sitting beside his father, wearing a confident smirk.

"Mr. Winchester," the headmaster said, addressing John when he entered the room. He looked around behind him. "Where's Jonathan?"

"Dean's at the hospital," John said. "My brother was in a serious accident. I felt it best if he wasn't left alone."

"If Jonathan's not here..."

"I'm right here," John said deliberately misunderstanding the headmaster.

"I meant your son," Dr. Webber said slowly, as if he was talking to a five year old.

"Oh, sorry, maybe you better refer to my son as Dean then. I wouldn't want to get confused again," John said in a mock serious tone. Sometimes, the need to mess with someone's head outweighed a little humiliation.

Dr. Webber just frowned. "Let's get to the heart of this matter. The Wallingfords are extremely busy and it is hard for them to take time away from their jobs," Dr. Webber said, clearly implying that he didn't think John's time or job was important at all.

_Just think, John thought, if I didn't do my job,__the lawsuits this guy would deal with. Wouldn't want their precious sons to get hurt if the school van malfunctioned. _"I'd like to get back to my brother, so I would appreciate it if we could wrap this up quickly," John replied. He discretely took a deep breath, trying to get his temper under control.

"Now, the facts of the matter are simple, one boy cheated. Both tests had the exact same answers for every question. The odds of that happening by coincidence are infinitesimal..."

"You know, if Dean were here," John interrupted. "He could figure out the exact probability of that happening. He told me there were covering statistics and probability in his _**advanced**_ math class. Can you do that, Jamie?" John said addressing the boy.

The smirk disappeared off Jamie's face, and he looked scared for a second like he was actually going to be asked to figure it out. John had to fight to keep the smirk off his own face.

"Mr. Winchester," Dr. Webber as if he was admonishing one of his students. "We are trying to get to the bottom of this matter."

"Richard," Jamie father said. "My son has been in this school since kindergarten. He has always had a consistent and satisfactory academic record. He is a star member of your basketball and baseball teams and is well liked and respected by both the faculty and his peers."

"You were up all night rehearsing that weren't you?" John asked.

Trask Wallingford ignored John and continued. "Now Jonathan..."

"Yes," John interrupted again.

"I was referring to your son," Trask said with a frown.

"Oh, my bad," John said. "Just to make sure I have this straight, when you say Jonathan you're talking about Dean and when you say Mr. Winchester, you're talking about me," John confirmed. He turned and looked toward the headmaster. "Do you have some paper and a pen? I'd like to write that down so I don't forget."

A small snicker escaped Jamie, he couldn't help it. He flushed red and looked at his hands when his parents and the headmaster all glared at him,

"Now Jonathan, or Dean, as you call him," Trask said to John as if he was afraid of being interrupted again. "He has just started at this school and…" he trailed off, his implication clear.

_Okay, play time's over. _"What?" John challenged. "Just because Dean's only been here a few months, it's obvious he's the cheater? My son does not cheat," John said forcibly.

"Are you calling my son a liar?" Andrea Wallingford remarked bitterly.

"If the shoe fits..." John thundered back.

"Well, it's no wonder your son has no manners."

Something inside John snapped. "Excuse me? You don't even know my son. You don't know a damn thing about him. Dean is a good kid."

"If he is so good, why did he not have the good manners to grace up with his presence?" Trask said. "Was he apprehensive that evidence of his untruths would be exposed?"

"Why don't you talk like a normal human being," John countered. "If you think your fancy college education and big words are scaring me..."

"Mr. Winchester, this meeting will be conducted in an organized and civilized manner," Dr. Webber interrupted.

"I'm not done," John said, his tone clearly indicating that he didn't appreciate being interrupted. "You can look down on me if you want to, I really don't care, but I will not tolerate anyone looking down on my boys in that way. They both did everything that was expected of them and more. You don't want my sons here, that's your right to feel that way, but your policy gives them a right to an education I couldn't afford any other way. They're just as deserving of this opportunity as the rest of the boys in this school and I assure you that if Dean did something that was punishable by expulsion, I would have marched him into your office myself, but you have no proof,_** none**_! Just the one word of one boy over the other and I will not stand for my son being the one taking the fall because of your personal bias."

"How do you propose we handle this then, Mr. Winchester?" Trask asked. "If you look at our son's academic achievements, it is immediately obvious who seems to be the one telling the truth."

"Forget it, you can't go by that. Dean's grades in his social studies class have been consistent all year," John directed his next comment directly at Trask Wallingford. "There are only two options that will enable this dispute to have a favourable outcome, and that is to not punish either boy for the transgression, since you can't prove with absolute certainty who is the culprit, or you allow the two young gentleman in question to take a re-test that will encompass the same knowledge they were required to know for this examination period," John said with just a hint of the same snobby tone Trask Wallingford had addressed him with.

Jamie gulped. He was starting to get nervous. He had thought that there was no way he'd ever get caught. Wimpchester was just an employee's kid. His dad had donated a lot of money to his school.

Having a trained hunter's eye, John caught sight the young man starting to squirm, confirming what he knew all along. Dean did not cheat.

"It's not fair," Jamie replied. "Dean's not here. If I have to take the test now, why should he have more time to study?"

"How about tomorrow morning?" John compromised. "That way, both boys know about it and have an equal amount of time to prepare."

Dr. Webber knew he had to agree. He didn't want John making trouble. "Alright, tomorrow, 9 am sharp."

The Wallingfords grudgingly agreed. They were confident that their son would triumph. John got up and left the office. He went to see his boss and Jim immediately told John that he could take the rest of the day off. No sooner had he gotten back to the Impala to head back toward the hospital, when his cell phone rang. It was Dean with the news that Bobby had woken up. John grinned. The day was definitely looking up.

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John rejoined his sons in Bobby's hospital room a short time later. When he got there, Bobby had already been taken for his tests. John told Dean about what had happened at the meeting and that he had a re-test the next morning. Dean didn't like having to take another test, but he knew it was the best he could hope for. At least he hadn't been expelled, although the way he was feeling toward the school lately, he wasn't sure that was a good thing.

He didn't have too much time to dwell on it, however, as his father had gotten their homework assignments from their teachers. Dean glanced toward his social studies book, he knew he should start with that because he had a lot riding on tomorrow, but he just didn't feel like tackling it, so he opted for his math homework instead. The work in his new classes was much more difficult, but Dean found that he enjoyed the challenge.

It didn't take the middle Winchester long to finish his math assignment and he then moved onto physics.

Sam finished off an essay for history and asked Bobby, who had been returned to the room, to read it and give his opinion. Bobby thought it was better than a 12 year old should have been able to write. Curiousity getting the better of him, Bobby reached over and picked up Dean's math book and opened it.

"You understand this?" Bobby asked in amazement as he looked over the symbols and long complicated formulas. There wasn't a number in sight. "In my day, math actually contained numbers."

"It's calculus, Bobby," Dean explained. "It's not that hard if you pay attention."

"I'll take your word on that," Bobby said.

"I don't understand it either," Sam confirmed. "Algebra's hard enough."

Dean just shrugged. "It's no big deal."

"Are you ready for your social studies test?" Sam asked. He could see Dean starting to get antsy. He knew his brother hated that kind of attention.

"I will be. I just wanted to finish my physics and then I'm going to start reviewing for social studies," Dean said with a small smile of gratitude toward his brother.

"You boys are going home tonight," John insisted. "Bobby's out of the woods and I don't want either of you missing another day of school."

"Yes sir," both boys said. They knew it was pointless to argue.

"Damn, I didn't realize the time," John said looking at his watch. "Boys, it's lunch time. Dean..."

"Yeah, I know, a proper meal. Come on, Sammy," Dean said and grabbed his insulin kit out of his bag.

Bobby watched as the boys exited the room. Dean wouldn't have to do this much longer. _Oh God! Dean's amulet, it had to be there. His jacket, where was his jacket?_

"Johnny, where's my clothes?" Bobby asked.

"Calm down. I swear, Dean's rubbing off on you. They're not going to sign your release papers, you still have that thing in the back of your head."

"No, my clothes. There's something that was in my jacket pocket, I need to make sure I still have it."

"All your things were put in one of those patient belonging bags. It's in the cupboard. Hold on, I'll get it," John said and rose from his chair and got the item Bobby was looking for. The elder hunter instructed John on how to locate the hidden pocket and he breathed a sigh of relief when John pulled out the small, wrapped package. Dean's amulet was safe.

John regarded the small package in his hands. "This is what you were after, wasn't it? What is it?" John asked curiously.

"Open it," Bobby requested.

John easily tore open the wrapping and found himself staring at a necklace. There was a plain, black leather cord, with some kind of pendant attached. It was a gold face wearing a horn rimmed helmet. It looked old. "What is this?" John questioned. _This was worth almost getting killed over?_

"It's called the Amulet of Harmonia," Bobby explained.

"Harmonia was the Greek goddess of harmony, wasn't she?" John asked.

"Good to see you paid attention to those mythology lessons I gave you," Bobby said with a smile. "Yes, Harmonia was the Greek goddess of Harmony. That pendant was made in the image of her husband, Cadmus. Legend has it that when he was killed in battle, Harmonia fell into a deep depression. She became so ill that she almost died. Then, one day, a priest presented her with this amulet. When she wore it, it took away her sickness and unhappiness and she became a beautiful and vibrant woman again. She claimed that wearing it meant Cadmus would always be with her, and the harmony between her and her husband had been restored."

"Why did you want it?" John asked in confusion. "Why is this thing worth you almost dying?"

"Well, according to the legend, Harmonia wasn't the only one this worked for. It's supposed to restore harmony to anyone who wears it. Whoever's neck it hangs around is free of illness, any illness, John, whether it be as serious as cancer, or simple a cold, or..."

"Diabetes," John said softly. "Are you telling me this thing can cure Dean?" he asked in disbelief.

"I wish it could, but no, it can't cure him," Bobby replied.

"I'm confused. You said the wearer was free from disease, but how can that be if it won't cure him?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't explain it very well. It doesn't cure a disease, but it makes the wearer symptom free. If Dean wears that necklace, he won't need injections, or special diets. He will also never get sick, no colds, flu, or anything else, you just have to know that according to the legend, whenever Harmonia took the amulet off, her depression came back. It works the same way for everybody else. If Dean takes the necklace off, his diabetes will come back."

"How come I've never heard of this?" John asked suspiciously. "Where did you get it? Does it really work?"

"I have a contact who deals with artefacts like this, and don't ask me who it is because I'm not telling you, and yes, that amulet works."

"How do you know?"

"Trust me on this, John, alright? I would never do anything to hurt Dean or Sam."

"I know that," John confirmed.

"That's why I'm bringing this to your attention first. There are some people in the hunting community who know what it does, and would love to get their hands on it. It could make Dean a target," Bobby said honestly.

"Who knows you have it?" John wanted to know.

"Right now, just the guy who I got it off, but he's not the most trustworthy person. If someone offered more money, he wouldn't hesitate to try and get it back," Bobby admitted.

"If it protects my boys, it might be worth it. Can you get one for Sam?" John wanted to know.

"That's the only one that I know of. A word of caution, John. It's true that while wearing this, Dean can't get sick with a cold or flu or anything, but it doesn't make him bullet proof, or claw proof. He can still get hurt."

"No more diabetes though, Dean would love that," John said still gazing at the amulet. He was almost afraid to believe that it could work.

"No more symptoms, John," Bobby cautioned. "Dean will still have diabetes, you can't forget that. He can't take that necklace off, _**ever,**_"

"What happens if he does?" John wanted to know. "Will he be worse off than he is now?"

"I did my research on this thing. If he takes it off, he will have about 48 hours before he displays symptoms. Once the disease reappears, Dean would have 14 days to put it back on. If he doesn't, it won't work for him anymore."

"Bobby, how do I thank you for this?" John said not trying to keep the emotion out of his voice.

"You don't," Bobby said instantly. "I told you before, it's what family does for each other. There is one thing I insist on though," Bobby added.

"What's that?"

"You tell Dean what it is and what it does, and you let him make up his own mind about whether or not he's going to wear it. You can't order him to," Bobby said.

"Why wouldn't he?" John questioned.

"There are things that would have to change. He would no longer need insulin..."

"And he injects at school," John finished. "We could just say that his doctor adjusted his insulin schedule and that he no longer needs that one."

"What about when he goes away with the Academic Elite? He's required to turn his insulin in to his chaperone."

John didn't say anything. Another thought had suddenly entered his mind and he wasn't ready to voice it out loud.

Bobby, however, knew exactly what John was thinking. His friend had started working at the school to get benefits to pay for Dean's medical supplies, if he no longer needed them, they could get back to hunting.

"If you had told me about this thing when we moved here, I would have grabbed it and run, but now..." John trailed off. He had a feeling that Bobby knew what he was thinking anyway. Dean would probably be glad, but Sam wouldn't. If they left, Sam would never talk to him again. "The boys are settled and I get to be a real father to them for the first time since the fire."

"Things don't have to go back to the way they were before. Lots of us manage to stay in one spot and work and continue to hunt, and I'd miss you guys," Bobby admitted.

"I don't know what to do," John said helplessly. The little thing in his hand could fix so many problems, but could also cause so many more.

"Your boys are growing up, Johnny. They have good heads on their shoulders. Talk to them about everything involved if Dean decided to wear the amulet. This is a decision you should make together, as a family," Bobby cautioned.

"Hey Bobby," a voice called out. "Did the doctors find a brain in your skull?"

Bobby glanced toward the open doorway and saw that the boys had returned from dinner.

"Very funny, smartass," Bobby said to John's eldest.

"I hope it's working because your doctor is out there talking to some cops. My guess is that they want to know what happened. What did happen, Bobby?" Dean asked.

Before Bobby could answer, his doctor showed up and inquired as to whether Bobby felt up to answering some questions. Bobby said he might as well get this over with.

20 minutes later, the officers thanked Bobby for his statement and prepared to leave. Dean wanted to bow to the master. The tale Bobby had spun was so good, that even Dean had believed it, and he knew that it was total bull crap. He asked Bobby for the real story.

"Actually boys, we should let Bobby rest," John said before Bobby could say anything. He wanted to think about this. "Dean, you have a test tomorrow, and I want you boys to get a real night's sleep in your beds. You can come back tomorrow after school," John promised.

"Good luck, Dean. I know you'll blow that test out of the water," Bobby encouraged.

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The following day, Dean arrived in the office of the headmaster to take his test. He was glad that the room was arranged so that there was no possible way one boy could see the other's test. Dean pretended that he was on a hunt and blocked out everything else around him and concentrated on the task at hand. The subject matter was familiar to him and he finished quickly. He waited until Jamie handed his test in, though. He wouldn't put it past the headmaster or Jamie to try and switch the tests. The boys waited while the tests were graded. As much as the headmaster hated the outcome, Dean had scored a 96 while Jamie had scored a 78.

"There is still no way to prove exactly who cheated, so I will let you boys go with a warning placed in both your files. If this should happen again, you will be expelled. You may head out to your classes, boys," the headmaster said. He really didn't want to call the Wallingfords and explain that it was most likely that their son was the guilty one. Their annual donation was coming up.

Dean couldn't say that he was surprised about the outcome. He did know that if he was the one who had scored the 78, he'd be the one out the door. He didn't care though. He was just glad the whole thing was over and done with.

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While John was at work and the boys at school, Bobby had a lot of time on his hands. His thoughts were mostly centered on the Winchesters and the first time he met them.

_1986_

Bobby Singer watched as a jet black, 1967 Chevy Impala pulled into the driveway of his home. He was already regretting agreeing to this. More than likely, John's two brats would destroy the whole place, and lately, he had been thinking of selling it and going back to hunting full time. He needed the place in one piece and how was he supposed to train the father when all he would be doing would be trying to control his children?

He watched them for a couple of minutes before going over to them. John was getting their gear out of the trunk, the smaller boy was trying to get the older boy's attention and the older boy was looking all around the yard like he'd died and gone to heaven. Bobby guessed that he was admiring all the automobiles he owned. He walked over and greeted John Winchester and grunted hello when John introduced him to his two boys, 7 year old Dean and 4 year old Sammy. He was sure his suspicions were correct when Sammy burst into tears, telling John not to let the mean old man get him. John told Sammy that it wasn't a nice thing to say and to apologize. Bobby still remembered that little voice that said 'sowwy.' He also remembered the death glare Dean had shot him for upsetting his little brother.

The first thing Bobby did with the family was lay down the ground rules. He told them to stay quiet, not to touch his things and stay out of the way. He also told them that under no circumstances were they to enter his salvage yard. His other strongest memory of that day was the look of disappointment on Dean's face. He was glad that he had made that rule because he had a feeling that as soon as his back was turned, that would be where Dean would run off to. He may have not liked kids, but that didn't mean he wanted them to get hurt. That all changed one day, about a week later.

Bobby had been surprised at how smoothly the week had gone. The boys were behaving, and John was a fast learner. Then one day, Sammy had woken up with a cold. He had a high fever and John wanted to take him to the doctor. He asked Bobby if he would keep an eye on Dean and he promised that Dean would stay out of his hair. Before he could stop himself, Bobby said yes.

Dean spent the morning in the kitchen, working on some Latin words. John had told Dean that he wanted him to learn how to spell them and that he would quiz his eldest when he got home. He figured that would keep Dean occupied.

Bobby spent the morning working on his books. He could see Dean from where he was sitting and the little boy didn't move. At noon, the elder hunter decided the little boy must be starving and went to go make some hot dogs.

"How're your words coming?" Bobby said, making small talk.

"Do you think Sammy's okay?" Dean said in a worried tone.

Bobby was taken aback. He knew that the kid watched out for his younger brother, but right now, Dean was sounding more like a concerned father than a 7 year old kid.

"I'm sure he's fine," Bobby said reassuringly.

"I should be with him. What if the doctor gives him a shot? Sammy doesn't like shots. They make him cry. I can make him laugh," Dean said in a rush.

"I bet you could. I'm sure your daddy will get him through, though. You could draw him a picture and if he had to get a shot, it would cheer him up," Bobby suggested.

"Sammy likes pictures," Dean agreed.

Bobby congratulated himself on the way he'd handled that and went to put the plates in the sink, when he turned around, Dean was gone. _Where the hell did he go? Bobby thought. Dean wouldn't disobey him, would he?_

He bolted out the front door toward the salvage yard. He was concentrating so hard on looking for Dean that he didn't see him sitting on the front porch and almost tripped over him.

"Jeez kid, don't do that again," Bobby growled.

"I'm sorry," Dean pleaded. "I wanted to draw Sammy a picture of the GTO you have and I just wanted to see it. I didn't know I wasn't allowed on the porch. Don't tell dad."

Bobby instantly felt bad and was impressed that Dean knew the name of the car he was attempting to draw. He should have known that Dean wouldn't disobey him. He hadn't yet. "Easy kiddo, you didn't break any rules. You just need to let me know where you're going, okay?"

Bobby looked into the green eyes of the little boy sitting there and to this day he still didn't know what came over him. "You know, it's kind of hard to see it from here. What do you say we go take a closer look and as a reward for being a very good boy all week, want to come see my work shop?"

Dean looked like it was his birthday and Christmas all at once. He jumped up and grabbed Bobby's outstretched hand. Bobby led the little boy down into the salvage yard and showed him everything. When Sam and John came home, and Dean found out that Sammy didn't get a shot, but was happy that he had gotten a lollipop, Dean presented Bobby with the picture and said it was a thank you present. To this day, Bobby still had it.

From that day on, it became a routine for Bobby to invite Dean out into the yard with him. He continued to teach him about the engines. He loved the way Dean's face would light up. Each day, the Winchesters moved into his heart a little more and he was sad to see them go when John decided it was time to move on.

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John met the boys after school and they all drove back to the hospital. When Dean told John what had happened at school, he was upset at the outcome, but decided it wasn't worth pursuing. There were more important things to worry about and all three Winchesters were glad to see that Bobby was doing better, and that he'd had the ICP monitor removed.

"Boys, we need to have a talk," John said seriously.

"What's wrong, dad?" Dean said worriedly. "You're okay aren't you, Bobby?"

"Yeah kiddo, just have a bit of a headache. What your daddy and I need to talk you about is the reason I'm in here," Bobby said.

"What's up?" Sam asked.

Bobby brought out the amulet and told the boys about the legend and what the amulet could do. He handed it to Dean when he was done.

"This is the reason you're in the hospital?" Dean said as he gingerly held the amulet.

"Yeah, but ending up here wasn't part of the plan," Bobby said with a small grin.

Dean frowned. "You could have died."

"I didn't though, I have a hard head."

"You could have died because of me," Dean repeated. All at once, Dean's emotions bubbled to the surface and he didn't think he could control them. He had to get out of here. "I'm not worth it," was all he said.

"You are to me, son," Bobby tried to explain.

"I...I can't. I don't want it," Dean said and he dropped the amulet on the table as if it were on fire, and took off out of the room.

"Dean!" John called after him. "I better go talk to him. Sam, stay here, okay?"

Sam stared at the piece of jewellery before him. He was torn. He didn't want Dean to have diabetes anymore, but if Dean started to wear this thing, it could mean leaving. His dad might decide to start hunting again. Sam didn't want to move. Dean's diabetes was stable at the moment, but Sam knew that could easily change, and his brother could experience all kinds of complications, but Sam didn't want to leave his school, or his friends. Did that make him a horrible brother, because he knew if the situations were reversed, and he was the one with diabetes, Dean would have held him down and forced the necklace around his neck.

Why did everything have to be so damn hard?

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It didn't take long for John to find Dean. He headed for the first place Dean always went when he was upset and he found his eldest seated behind the wheel of the Impala.

"Dean," he said gently as he slid in beside his son.

"What? I don't want that stupid thing and you can't make me wear it," Dean insisted.

"I'm not going to make you," John said causing Dean to look at him in surprise.

"Why, dad? Why did he do it? He could have died," Dean said emotionally.

"He did it for you, son, because he loves you," John said simply. "When you love someone, you would do anything for them, even if it meant laying down your own life for them. Put yourself in Bobby's position, Dean. You'd do the same for him, or Sammy, or me, without thinking twice. Why is it so hard for you to see that we'd do the same thing for you?"

"I'm not…"

"Dean," John said sharply. "If you so much as even think the words 'I'm not worth it', I'll tan your hide, are we clear?"

"Yes sir," Dean mumbled. "I don't want to disrupt our lives here." Dean also knew that if he didn't need meds, his dad would start to get antsy and want to get back to the hunt. He could just imagine Sam's reaction to that. He didn't want to disrupt the peace between his brother and his father. "Sammy's happy, dad."

"What about you, Dean, are you happy?"

"Sammy loves Westcott. I don't want you two fighting again," Dean said dodging the question.

That's when John realized that his eldest tied his happiness to his little brother's. Dean wouldn't do something if it hurt Sammy, even if it meant giving up something John knew he wanted for himself. "Dean, what do you want?" John asked again.

"I want..." Dean started and stopped, that familiar shaky feeling that he got whenever he was really upset about something descended upon him. "Damn it," he cried in frustration and pounded the steering wheel. He closed his eyes and rested his head in his arms, the garage had started spinning.

"Dean," John said in concern. "Are you okay?"

"Dad, make it stop, I don't want to do this anymore," he said, sounding like a little boy.

Dean's kit was in his school bag, back in Bobby's room, and his glucose tablets were in there as well. John started patting down his pockets, hoping he had some candy in there. He pulled out the only thing he could find, a pack of gum. _Just my luck, sugar free. _He rummaged in the glove box, but there was nothing there.

"Dean, there's a vending machine in the lobby. I'm going to go get a soda. I'll be back in less than five, so you hang in there, buddy."

Before Dean could protest, John got out of the car and took off running. He prayed that he had change in his pocket and for once, luck was with him. He got a soda and ran back to the car. He popped the top and helped Dean to take a few sips.

When Dean was feeling steadier, John assisted him back into the hospital. He took Dean to the cafeteria and made him eat something.

When they got back to Bobby's room, Dean thanked the elder hunter for getting the amulet for him. He had been fully intending to start wearing it, but when he entered the room, he watched Bobby laying in the hospital bed and Sam talking to him about his history class. It was enough to make Dean change his mind and refuse to accept the necklace.

Bobby and John both just sighed, and Sam didn't know whether to feel happy or sad.

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The next day, after school, Dean stopped in to visit Bobby. Sam had gone to Randy's house and John was working late.

"Hey Bobby," Dean greeted the elder hunter.

"Hey Dean. How's school?"

Dean just shrugged. "I got a 98 on my math test and a 100 on my physics assignment," he added.

"That's great. You could work for NASA."

"Are their any good hunts in space?" Dean said in a half-joking, half serious manner.

"Not sure, I haven't heard of anything, but that doesn't mean there is nothing out there. What do you think? Dean Winchester, the first intergalatic hunter."

"It sounds catchy."

"Dean, can I ask you something?" Bobby said sounding serious.

"What?"

"Do you miss hunting?"

"Yes, but there never seems to be time for one. I mean, I was in school all week and I went out with Kelsey on weekends, but now..." Dean said sadly remembering Kelsey's betrayal.

"I'm sorry," Bobby felt the need to apologize, after all, he was the one that had set Dean and Kelsey up.

"It's not your fault. It's just something that happens. I don't regret the time I spent with her," Dean said genuinely. "Besides, she's the one paying for her mistakes. Bobby, can I ask you a question? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"You want to know why I risked my life for you?" Bobby guessed.

"Yeah, why?" Dean asked, although part of him was wishing that Bobby would refuse to answer.

"Do you know how I got into hunting?" Bobby asked Dean.

"No," he said after a moment, wondering what Bobby was getting at. He had always wondered, but his dad told him not to ask why others did it. It was none of their business.

"My wife was killed," Bobby said, his voice heavy with emotion.

"You were married?" Dean asked in surprise. "Was she killed like..." Dean couldn't finish.

"No, she wasn't killed like your mom. This is hard for me to say, so I'm giving you the short version."

"You don't have to tell me," Dean offered.

"It's okay, just give me a minute," he said and forced down his emotions. "She was attacked one night, not anything supernatural, just some junkie looking for a fix. She was 6 months pregnant with our son and the attack caused a miscarriage. Anna went into such a deep depression after that and it left her vulnerable and..."

"Wide open to demonic possession," Dean filled in with a shudder. He felt bad for his friend, Bobby would have made an awesome father.

"Yeah, she attacked me one day. I didn't know what to do, I had to defend myself. I killed her," Bobby said and had to stop for a few minutes while he got himself back under control.

"I'm sorry, Bobby, I didn't mean to bring all this back up for you."

"Dean, don't apologize. I wouldn't have told you if I didn't want to."

"Bobby, I..."

"Dean, it's okay, son. You don't have to say anything. After my wife died, I cut myself off from the world, just like your daddy. I hated everyone and everything, especially children because every time I looked at a child, it reminded me of what I'd lost. It was a short time later that I met and trained with Caleb, and I became determined to rid this earth of every last demon, or go down in a blaze of glory doing it. I was even thinking about selling the salvage yard and hunting full time."

"What stopped you?" Dean asked.

"You did."

That floored Dean. "Me?" he asked in confusion.

"Yeah, that day when I found you sitting on the porch. My son would have been your age, and when I looked at you and spent that day in the salvage yard, I kept thinking that this is something I would be doing with my own son, but for reasons I can't explain, it didn't make me sad. You kind of gave me back that feeling of joy and became like a son to me and right now, when I look at you, I can't help but think you're exactly the kind of young man I would want my son to be." When Bobby finished, he reached out and grabbed Dean's hand. He didn't want him bolting.

Dean's eyes misted up. "You think of me as a son?" He asked in disbelief.

"Always have. That's why I got that amulet for you, Dean. I hate watching you struggle, and I hated seeing you so miserable with that feeding tube. It was the only thing I could think of to do."

"You could have died, Bobby, nothing's worth that, 'cause you mean everything to me too, you know," Dean said before he could change his mind.

"Dean, about the amulet..." Bobby said. He could see that Dean was clearly uncomfortable and wanted to change the subject.

"I don't know what I want to do. I would give anything to not have to take needles everyday, or worry about hypos. I'd miss you if dad decided to leave, and I really have to think about him and Sammy too."

_You mean think about them first, Bobby thought, but didn't say it out loud, as he knew it would cause Dean to get defensive._ He smiled and said, "I'd miss you too, kiddo, and_ w_hatever you want to do, I'll support you."

"Thanks Bobby."

Dean drove home that night, still thinking about the amulet. When he walked in the front door, he realized it was time for his injection. He pulled the amulet out of his pocket. He knew what he wanted to do, but as watched his brother laugh at something his father said, Dean knew what he had to do. He went to his room and pulled out a small metal box that he kept his most prized possessions in, placed the amulet inside and then put it back in his drawer. He heard his father call him. Dean went and got his insulin out of the fridge. His family came first.

A/N:When I started this story, one of the things I went back and forth on was whether or not to give Dean a supernatural cure. That's when I decided to compromise and use the necklace, not to cure him but just to make his symptoms go away. I added the delay because there are a few times that we have seen Dean without the necklace on.

Remember to leave a review. Its what I live for.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

A big thank you to Soar for the Beta job, and to Soar, Sinead-Conlan, and JuliaAurelia for all their feedback on this chapter.

Disclaimer: Still don't own.

The sun rose over the horizon and John Winchester awoke with its early morning light. He wasted no time and quickly jumped out of bed because he had a ton of things to accomplish today. Bobby was being released from the hospital and John had to pick him up, and then he had to go to Bobby's to put the finishing touches on the GMC 4x4 truck Bobby was fixing up for him. He was just really glad that it was his day off.

He called the boys and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. A quick glance in the fridge revealed that a trip to the grocery store was another thing that had to be added to his 'to do' list. They had spent the last couple of days at the hospital and things had been neglected at the house. No matter what though, he needed to make sure that everything was ready for tomorrow, January 24th.

A smile graced John's lips as he flipped the pancakes. He couldn't believe that his eldest was actually turning 17 tomorrow. It seemed like only yesterday that he had been born. _You should see our boy,__Mary. You'd be so proud of him,_ John thought as he turned off the stove and put a plate on the table and started to make up a second one.

Sam and Dean entered the kitchen together and John saw Dean grab his insulin and disappear back down the hall to the bathroom. John had to admit that he was surprised. He knew that Dean hated the whole business with the needles and diet, and he would have thought that Dean would have had that amulet over his head in a heartbeat.

The hardest thing, John had to admit, was not ordering Dean to wear it. He really wanted to, but he had made a promise and he was determined to keep it. This was something Dean had to decide for himself.

"Hey dad, earth to dad," he heard his eldest call him and realised that he must have been out of it long enough for Dean to leave and return.

"What," John said coming out of his stupor. "Oh, sorry Dean, here's your pancakes," John said handing the plate that he'd held hostage in his arms to his son.

The three of them took a seat at the table and started happily munching away, or two of them did anyway. John hadn't made it to the grocery store and there was no sugar free syrup. Dean had asked his father for a tiny amount of regular, but due to the fact that he had spent most of the last two days sitting around the hospital, and had gotten little exercise, Dean's blood sugar was slightly elevated and John didn't want to risk it becoming unstable, so he had put his foot down.

"So Dean, anything special you want to do tomorrow?" John asked his eldest, trying to change the subject. He hoped that Dean didn't have any plans.

Dean didn't say anything at first. "Not really," he said with a shrug after a while.

"Do you want to go out for dinner? You can pick the restaurant," John offered. If there was somewhere Dean really wanted to go, his plans could be adjusted.

"I'd rather just stay in," Dean replied. "You can invite Bobby, if you want."

"Don't you want to invite Gray?" Sam inquired.

"I think he's busy," Dean said softly.

"Did he tell you he was doing something?" John wanted to know. He really hoped everything was okay between them.

"No," Dean said, looking down at his plate, suddenly finding it fascinating.

"Does Gray know it's your birthday tomorrow, Dean?" Sam asked. He had a feeling that Dean hadn't told him.

"Dean?' John questioned.

"No," Dean said with a sigh.

"Why not?" Sam wanted to know. He couldn't wait until May. He wanted to have a birthday party with his friends.

"It didn't seem important," Dean replied with another shrug.

John felt bad because he knew that he'd never really made a big deal about birthdays. There were several times in the past when he had gotten wrapped up in a hunt and forgotten Dean's birthday. He wondered if this could be the reason Dean hadn't told Gray. He didn't want to have to explain if his father forgot.

He really hoped his plans this year would make up for some past mistakes. John made a mental note to add a phone call to his list. If Dean didn't invite Gray, he would.

"We'd better get going," John said after they finished breakfast. "Dean, you drop me off at Bobby's and then you can drive yourself and Sammy to school. I'll either call you for a ride home, or I'll borrow one of Bobby's cars." John tossed the Impala's keys to his eldest son.

Dean decided that this was the best time to voice his request. "Dad, don't you think it would be so much easier if we had two cars? I was wondering if I could get a part time job and start saving for one," he said tentatively.

John had to work to keep the grin of his face. "I don't know, Dean. I mean, right now, you have school, your support group and the academic elite, I don't want you to stretch yourself too thin."

"Can I at least start looking? Academic Elite ends in a month and it may take me that long to find something."

"Yes, but make sure you check with me before applying anywhere, understood?"

"Yes sir, thanks," Dean said sincerely and went to go finish getting ready for school.

"Dad," Sam said. "You should let him, it's so rare that he asks for something, and I know he really wants his own car," Sam said.

"I know that, Sammy," John said and outlined his plans for Dean's birthday to his youngest. "Do you think it's a mistake?" John questioned. He'd been unsure about the second part of his plan.

A big grin light up Sam's face. "No way. He's going to love it," Sam said firmly. "Good idea."

John's grin matched Sam's.

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When Sam and Dean showed up at Bobby's after school, Dean told John that he had invited Gray and that he was coming to dinner tomorrow. John was glad. He had one last thing to do and he couldn't have Dean around while he did it. Bobby, aware of what was happening, asked Dean if he would run to the hardware store and pick up some parts. This accomplished two things. He got the parts he needed and allowed John the time to wash and wax the Impala.

Dean borrowed one of Bobby's cars and drove downtown to Murphy's Hardware. It was an old fashioned mom-and-pop type store, owned and run by Sean Murphy. He always had a kind word for his customers and you were always treated with the kind of customer service that you didn't get in the big department stores. Plus, the place had every tool known to man and Dean loved to look at them. He quickly decided that he believed in fate when he approached the store and saw the help wanted sign in the window.

He went in and was greeted by the owner. He returned the greeting and picked up the parts he needed before heading to the register. He was glad that Mr. Murphy was working it because he wanted to ask him about the job.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Murphy," Dean said politely.

"Afternoon, Dean," Sean Murphy greeted the young man. "How's your uncle? I'm sorry to hear Bobby was ill. He's one of my best customers."

"He actually got out of the hospital today. He'll be back in here in no time. In fact, that's why I'm here."

Sean smiled. "Thank God, I was afraid for my business."

Dean grinned. "Mr. Murphy, can I ask you something?"

"'Course, 'm'boy."

"It's about the help wanted sign you have in your window. What would the hours be like?"

"Part time, about 15 per week. It would be mostly helping the customers and stocking shelves. I'm getting way too old to be bending up and down."

"Do you have the position filled yet?" Dean asked.

"Not yet," Sean said. "I can only pay minimum wage and young people want to work at the mall."

"Can I have an application? I know lots about tools. I'm sure that I can get a recommendation from my shop teacher as well," Dean said excitedly. This would be his dream job.

Sean looked at the young man standing before him. Truth be told, he would prefer not to hire teenagers. They weren't very reliable and in the past, he'd had money and things stolen from him, or had the kids just not show up, but this was Bobby's nephew. He had known Bobby Singer for 15 years. Dean had the best manners that he'd ever seen in a teenager, but the fact remained that Dean was still a teenager. Would he be looking for days off or extended breaks? He had been hoping for a college student.

"Guess it couldn't hurt for you to fill out the application," Sean said eventually and handed one to the young man before him.

"Thanks sir, there's just one thing," Dean said. He had to be honest and he wanted to know if he'd be out of the running before he'd even applied.

"What is it?" Sean said, trying to keep the wariness out his tone.

"It's just that I'm diabetic. I don't need special breaks, but I would need to know when they would be before hand, so that I can adjust my schedule. Guess I should have told you that before I asked for the application," Dean said sheepishly.

"It's okay. I don't see that being a problem," Sean said honestly. "I post the schedules a week in advance."

"Thanks, Mr. Murphy." Dean said. "I just have to check with dad and I'll get his back to you as soon as possible."

"You're welcome," Sean said.

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Gray got home that evening and went to his room to put away his school bag. He then went to the kitchen, grabbed a slice of cake, and spoke to Edith, their cook. He also wanted a snack before getting ready to head out again. He had to go to the mall and look for a birthday present for Dean. He couldn't believe that Dean hadn't wanted to tell him, but he was glad that he had in the end.

He was just getting ready to leave when he heard his mother call him. "Grayson, your father needs to talk to you," she said.

That was a surprise. He had thought his father was out of town. "When did dad get back?" he asked.

"This afternoon. He needed to pick up a few things and then he's taking Thayer to the office with him to show him a few things," his mother explained.

"When does he want me?" Gray asked.

"Now, please don't keep him waiting," his mom said and then shouted over his shoulder. "Arabella. Come on, darling, we don't want to be late for dinner, you know the Markingtons abhor lateness."

"Coming mummy," he heard his sister's false, sugary voice. He just sighed and went to his father's home office. He knocked and entered when requested.

"You wanted to see me, dad?" Gray asked.

"Yes Gray, have a seat," his dad said indicating the seat in front of him. His father, Thayer Remington the third, was an imposing man and you usually did as asked.

"What's up?" Gray asked.

"It's been brought to my attention by my good friend Judge Atwood, that you've been seen running around town with someone who's not, shall we say, of reputable character."

"What?" Gray said in disbelief. His father wasn't talking about Dean was he?

"Do not play dumb, Grayson. This boy goes to your school and I won't have our family's good name suffer. I mean, the Atwoods are in our social circle, but I have never seen you hang around with Benjamin. He is your age."

"Dad, Dean's my friend," Gray defended. "Me and Ben don't get along." He didn't understand the world he lived in. Why was it that Ben, who was a shoplifter, a jerk, and about to be a 16 year old father was acceptable, when someone like Dean, who was the exact opposite, wasn't. He wondered if his dad knew about Kelsey.

"I am inviting the Atwoods to dinner tomorrow night. Judge Atwood is thinking of running for political office and is asking for my support in his campaign, so it wouldn't do for the press to get wind of the fact that the son of one of his campaign's biggest supports is hanging around with the town delinquent."

"Dean's not a delinquent, dad," Gray snapped.

"Grayson, I've let you have your fun, but it's time to get serious about your future. Now, you will be at dinner tomorrow night..."

"But dad," Gray protested. "It's Dean's birthday. I promised him that I would be there." Gray had to show up. He knew his friend well enough that Dean would take it personally if he didn't.

"It wasn't a request, you will be there," Thayer said instantly. "I also forbid you to see that boy again for the duration of the campaign. You may go," his father said dismissing him.

Gray was fuming as he walked down the hall toward his bedroom. He couldn't believe it. Maybe he could ask Ben at dinner tomorrow night if he and Kelsey had discussed names, he thought ruefully. But to do that, he had to be at dinner tomorrow night and he didn't want to be there. He wanted to go to his friend's birthday party. Just before he got to his bedroom, he saw his brother there. Great, this is just what he needed.

"Hey geek. Dad talk to you?"

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Move Thayer, I'm not in the mood."

"Nerdboy gets mad. I didn't think I'd ever see it."

"Move," Gray requested again.

"Gonna make me, brainiac?" Thayer challenged.

Gray started to turn away.

"Knew you were too much of a wimp. I can't believe we're related."

With that, Gray turned suddenly, lifted his knee and connected with Thayer, solidly in between his legs.

"You know what?" Gray said to his brother when he fell. "If my brother can't teach me how to kick a bully in the 'nads, then I'm glad my friend could." Gray stepped over his fallen brother, feeling lighter than he had in awhile. That had felt so good. He grabbed his keys and headed out the door. His mind was made up. He needed to find a birthday present, after all, he couldn't show up for Dean's birthday without one.

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The next morning, while the boys were at school, Bobby put the finishing touches on his and John's plans. Dean hadn't had a real birthday since he was 4 and John wanted to give him that. Knowing that he would never go for it himself, John took it upon himself. They decided to use Bobby's house since it was bigger. Bobby had even painted over the devil's trap on the ceiling. He would put it back once everything was done. He'd explained it to Gray by saying that one Halloween, Sam and Dean had turned his place into a haunted house and he had just never bothered painting over it.

John had also invited Dean's support group over for his birthday, and they were all attending. Bobby really thought that John's plan was a good one, as everyone but Gray and Sammy were diabetics and for once, Dean wouldn't feel like the odd man out. Bobby had also arranged for trays of healthy food and other things that were in Dean's diet. There was nothing that anyone at the party couldn't eat. The only thing Bobby regretted was that there was no cake. John had tried to make one using a diabetic recipe, but it hadn't turned out well. Bobby just hoped that the birthday pizza would do.

Given that this was Dean, and not wanting to embarrass him, the decorations were minimal, just a simple banner that read 'Happy Birthday Dean'. The food had been arranged buffet style and there were no activities planned. The guests could just hang out and mingle.

It was debated by John and Bobby briefly as to whether to make this a surprise party. That was quickly shot down, they both knew that Dean would not react well to everyone jumping out and yelling 'surprise'. John was supposed to tell him on the way over, but they were still a little nervous as to how Dean would react. Despite everything though, Dean deserved this and John wanted to give it to him. He just hoped that everything went well and that Dean enjoyed himself, not spending the whole time in the corner brooding.

By six, all the guests, including Gray, had shown up. When Bobby greeted him, Gray handed him a birthday cake. He'd had their chef make it suitable for diabetics. Bobby knew he could take Gray's word on that because their chef was qualified to work at a five star restaurant. Bobby noticed that Gray was a little subdued and dragged the whole story of his father's party out of him. Gray told Bobby that most likely come tormorrow, he would be on the next plane to military school. Bobby told him not to worry about it and to enjoy the party. Deciding to follow Bobby's advice, Gray introduced himself to the other party guests, and he easily fit in with the rest of the crowd.

The rumble of the Impala indicated that the birthday boy had arrived. Dean had said surprisingly little when John told him. He'd given the expected 'you shouldn't have gone to all this trouble' line. John had told him that it was no trouble, and that he hoped that Dean had a good time. After he told Dean all the guests were from his support group, John could have sworn that he saw a hint of a smile grace his eldest's lips.

When the Winchesters entered, everyone wished Dean a happy birthday. Dean flushed red, but John and Bobby were sporting grins of their own. It was easy to tell that Dean enjoyed the attention.

The two elder hunters retired to the kitchen and kept an eye on things. They could both see Dean talking to his friends and laughing at something they said. Both men were glad to see that the laughter was genuine, not forced. Dean was clearly enjoying himself. The only time he showed a hint of getting upset was when Sandy put her new Backstreet Boys tape into the cassette player.

Even Dean was willing to admit that he was enjoying himself, and he really appreciated the fact that for once, he wasn't the one who was different.

Presents were the usual birthday fare. He'd gotten tapes, clothes and money from his friends in his support group. Bobby had gotten Dean a ticket to a fancy car show in town. John gave his son a model kit of an Impala, amused when Dean gave him a confused look. Dean had never made a model in his life. Sam gave Dean a Metallica T-shirt and Gray gave him a gift certificate to the music store, and knowing how much Dean liked to work on cars, he also gave him a fancy, fully loaded, tool kit.

What Dean didn't know was that Bobby's, Sam's and John's real presents were waiting until the guests had gone home. Part of John's gift was going to upset Dean and he didn't want to give it to him until it was just family.

After all the gifts were opened, Dean sat at the table while Bobby brought the cake in. Not being able to resist a little embarrassment of the birthday boy, Bobby led the group in an off-key version of happy birthday.

"Make a wish, Dean," Sam encouraged his brother.

"It already came true," Dean mumbled under his breath as he blew out his candles.

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Dean said goodbye to his friends and retired to the living room. John noticed that Dean asked Gray to stay for a while and he decided that it would be okay to give Dean his gifts in front of Gray. The kid was almost family.

"Good birthday, Dean?" John inquired.

"Yeah," he mumbled contently. "The best one."

"I'm glad, son," John said sincerely. This could have backfired so easily. "You up to opening a few more presents?"

"But you already got me so much," Dean protested.

"It's not much more," John replied. "Sam, you want to go first?"

"Yup, here, Dean," Sam said and handed Dean a new keepsake box. "I noticed that yours was getting a little rough. Sam had debated long and hard over what to get his brother. He knew that Dean had a little box, and the last time he'd seen Dean with it, the lid wouldn't stay closed. He had always wondered what was in it, but it was the one thing Dean wouldn't share with him, so Sam respected his brother's privacy.

"Thanks Sammy," Dean said, trying to keep his emotions at bay, as he ran his hand lightly over the inscription. _Brothers Forever. _

"My turn," Bobby said and handed Dean a new duffle bag.

Dean was a little confused at first, until Bobby gave him a pointed look, and Dean looked inside. There was a photo of a .45 desert eagle. Dean understood and grinned. He couldn't believe he was getting his own gun. He knew that had Gray not been there, Bobby would have handed it to him.

Gray couldn't understand why Dean got so excited over a duffle bag. He just chalked it up to one of the things he would probably never understand, like the silver bullet on Dean's key chain. Gray had asked his friend about it once. Dean had said it was a long story and changed the subject.

"Okay Dean, my turn," John said. "Now son, this is actually from your mother," John said softly.

Dean looked up in shock. "Wha... What is it?" he said trying unsuccessfully to keep the waver out of his voice.

With shaking hands, Dean accepted the gift from his father. When he opened it up, he realized that he was staring at a silver ring. He picked it up and looked at the inscription inside. It read _my little buddy. _Dean stared at it, not saying anything.

"It's real silver. Your mother was big on traditions. There was a silver mug that had been in her family for six generations. She wanted all of us to be able to share it. She got permission from her mother, and had it melted down and made into four rings. She chose rings because she said the circle was the perfect symbol to represent family, no ending, no beginning, always connected. Two became our wedding rings and she had the other two made for the two children we'd planned to have, She planned to give them to you on your 18th birthday," John explained softly and than quickly added, "I didn't forget how to count, I know you're 17, Dean. I just think your mom would understand my giving this to you now."

"Do you still have mine?" Sam asked, unable to keep the emotion out of his own voice. If it had been in his nursery...

John was just glad that he didn't have to lie to Sammy. "Yeah kiddo, you do. It's in a safety deposit box and you'll get it when you turn 17."

"Does the inscription mean anything, dad?" Sam asked curiously. He knew that his father called his brother 'buddy' and that Dean got upset if anyone else did that.

"Yeah," John said with a grin. "Your mom said that since our children were part of both of us, she wanted the rings to come from both of us. The silver they were made from came from her and she told me I could choose the inscription. I knew from the day you were born, Dean, that you were going to be my little buddy."

"What does mine say?" Sam asked curiously.

"You'll find out when your 17," was all John would say.

"No fair," Sam said with a pout and crossed his arms over his chest.

"It's beautiful, Dean," Gray said meaning it. It was a plain silver band, but Gray really did think it was the nicest thing he had ever seen.

Dean put the ring on his finger. He was disappointed that it was too big, though. It would never stay on his finger.

"Are you okay, buddy?" John asked. He continued when Dean didn't answer. "Don't worry if it doesn't fit. She had no way of knowing your sizes, so she just had them made based on a friend's 18 year old son. She just wanted you to have them."

"Yeah, it's just... I um, I just... thanks," Dean said, letting whatever else he had been about to say die on his lips.

Gray could see the disappointment on his friend's face. He knew that Dean wanted to wear it. He reached up and took off the chain that he usually wore. "Since I didn't know about the extra gifts, you can have this. You can wear the ring on it."

"Thanks," Dean said. He gratefully accepted the chain from his friend and put the ring on the chain and put it around his neck. He'd never take it off.

"You're welcome," Gray said.

John decided it was time to lighten the mood before Dean bolted. "Okay son, here's my real gift," he said and tossed something to his son.

Dean caught it in mid air. He looked down at the object in his had. It was a key to the Impala. Why was his dad giving him a key? He already had one. It took a few minutes for him to clue in. He looked at his father, daring him to confirm what he was thinking.

John just nodded toward the window.

Dean jumped off the couch and ran to the window, and sure enough, there was the Impala sitting in the driveway, washed and waxed and gleaming like it had just come off the show room floor. There was a big red bow sitting on the hood.

Dean ran to his father and hugged him. He didn't care that his friend was there.

"Want to go take your car for a spin?" John asked.

"My car," Dean said in disbelief. "Yeah. You coming, Sammy?"

Sam was all set to get up and join Dean, but a look from Bobby stopped him. "Actually, I'm kind of tired. Can you take me for a ride tomorrow?" Sam requested.

"Sure, coming Gray?" Dean said excitedly.

"Right behind you," Gray confirmed.

"Don't worry, dad, I'll be home by 12," Dean said.

"Hey Dean, you're growing up. I trust you. Make it one."

"Thanks dad," Dean said sincerely. Those three words and his ring were the best birthday presents of the day.

"Happy birthday, buddy."

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Dean drove down the highway with his music going. He couldn't remember a better birthday. He even pulled over and let Gray drive, briefly. It was his car after all. He liked saying that. His car.

They drove around for a while until it was time for Dean's evening snack. Gray proposed a little restaurant. Dean wanted to go to a drive through and keep driving, but since it was his car, he felt he should be responsible for the gas. He pulled over and really hoped that no one else was in the restaurant. He didn't want anything to ruin his day.

He and Gray walked in and took a booth in the back. Dean looked through the menu and asked for a plain, toasted bagel, lightly buttered. He watched as Gray ordered chilli cheese fries. He wondered briefly if he should put the amulet on.

_No Dean, he told himself. _It was true that part of the reason he was refusing to wear it was to keep the peace between his father and brother, because he had no doubt that once he did, his father was going to want to start hunting again. There was also another reason and it was a selfish one.

Dean had to admit that sometimes, it was nice not to be the responsible one. It was kind of nice to come home from school and do his homework and not have to worry about dinner. Sure, Dean helped out, but the responsibilities were shared among all three of them, it didn't all rest squarely on his shoulders, and Dean was willing to admit that felt good to himself, just not to anyone else.

Things in the restaurant went smoothly. George, from Dean's shop class, showed up at one point with his girlfriend. George seemed to be immune to the whole Wimpchester thing. The only thing that he cared about was that Dean could hold his own in auto shop. Plus, the fact that he had ended up getting to drive the Impala, briefly, firmly planted him on Dean's side.

Dean eventually pulled into the driveway at 12:56. His father was pacing and Dean bit back a grin, and said good night to his father and brother. He went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth and checked his blood sugar. Even it was cooperating by being within normal ranges.

Dean climbed into bed and reached his hand under his shirt and cupped the ring in his hand. "Night mom," he said softly and closed his eyes.

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The next day at breakfast, John was surprised when Dean repeated his request to get a job. He informed his father about the job at Murphy's and that he wanted to apply. He said that he wanted to be able to gas the Impala and have his own spending money. John agreed to let him try, but said that if his grades slipped, he was going to have to give it up.

The next three months passed quietly. The whole Wimpchester thing was dying down, with only Ben, Cody, and Jamie still using it.

Dean and Gray found a new table in the cafeteria. George and his friend Chris started joining them, and Neil eventually joined them as well. He told Dean that he was sorry for siding with Jamie and Cody, but he realized now just what big jerks they were. Dean told him not to worry about it. Neil had never really done anything to him.

Gray was surprised that he was even still around. He had really expected fireworks when he got home on the night of Dean's birthday. Apparently, though, his father had received an anonymous call that Judge Atwood was about to become a grandfather. Gray figured out where Bobby had disappeared to that night. His father immediately dropped his support for Judge Atwood, he didn't want to risk a scandal and he seemed to forget all about Dean.

Sean Murphy ended up hiring Dean. He had good recommendations, and he was extremely knowledgeable. He was surprised at how well it worked out. Dean was reliable, dependable and trustworthy and more importantly, the customers loved him.

Dean liked having his own spending money, so he made sure to make an extra effort to keep his grades up. It was hard sometimes, but like anything he put his mind to, he succeeded. The one thing that remained the same was Dean's refusal to wear the amulet.

Dean had to admit that he was surprised that his father hadn't ordered him to wear it yet. Although he wondered if his dad was using a more subtle method. Dean found that he had to remind his father to pick up his supplies more often. Hardly a month went by when Dean wasn't almost out of one thing or another. Once, he'd even had to drive to the drugstore at 11pm when he'd completely run out of syringes. He noticed that his father was becoming neglectful in other areas as well.

His father had always tried to keep sugary foods out of the house, but Dean noticed they appeared more often than not these days. There was less and less food being bought that was in his diet, and a few times, Dean really had to root thorough the cupboards to find something he could eat.

"Dad," he addressed his father one day. He was getting ready for work and putting together his injection kit. "Did you pick up my prescriptions? I used up the last of my insulin."

"Sorry Dean," John said contritely. "I'll get it tomorrow. There's still a full bottle in the fridge though," he said and turned back to the article he was reading.

"That's the rapid acting stuff," Dean said. He hated taking it because it kicked in too fast, he much preferred the short acting. He wondered if his dad had even really heard him.

"Just use it today and I promise, I'll pick it up tomorrow," John said, a touch of impatience entering his tone.

Dean didn't have a choice. He put the vial in the holder. He just hoped that Mr. Murphy would let him go to break a bit earlier than normal. "I'm off at nine, dad. I'm meeting Gray, and George afterwards, but I'll be home by 11. I know it's a school night."

"'Kay, call me if your plans change."

"I will," Dean promised and he headed out the door.

When he explained the situation with his insulin, Mr. Murphy told Dean to go ahead. He didn't mind him taking break a bit earlier, it was a slow evening, and Dean didn't often ask.

He was down back stocking shelves with oil when he heard a voice call out.

"Hey Wimpchester," Ben said.

Dean bit back a groan. "Hi Ben," he said, refusing to be baited when he saw Ben and his little brother standing there.

"I'm surprised that you're not scared to be back here by yourself."

"I'm not surprised you haven't gotten any new material," Dean shot back. Okay, maybe he was willing to be baited.

"It must really suck to be you. I mean, having to work and all. I just ask my dad for money," Ben sneered.

Dean really couldn't help himself. "I don't know, from what I hear, you could use a job. I heard the drug store's hiring and they offer a really good discount to employees. It might come in handy for buying diapers."

That shut Ben up fast. When Kelsey had told him that she was pregnant, he couldn't believe it. He had denied that it was his, but he'd done so much bragging to his friends that he'd spent the whole evening bagging Wimpchester's girlfriend, that anyone with half a brain would be able to do the math.

Dean gave Ben his own smirk as he heard Mr. Murphy page him to cash. He could hear Conner asking Ben what that had been about.

Dean covered for his boss while he had to take a phone call. He debated whether or not to warn Mr. Murphy about Ben's sticky fingers. Mr. Murphy had done him a favour by giving him the job and he felt that it was part of his responsibility as an employee, but he had just gotten rid of the Wimpchester label at school and he didn't want it replaced with something worse. His conscience, though, was telling him that his loyalty should lie with his boss. He knew what his father would expect him to do. He pulled his boss aside and told him to keep an eye on Ben. Sean thanked him and said that he would.

Shortly afterward, Dean went to the bathroom and took his injection. He was supposed to go on his dinner break when Mr. Murphy asked him to watch the cash, sure enough, Ben had been caught going out the door with a very expensive wrench in his pocket. Dean knew he had 15 minutes max to eat something, but Mr. Murphy was going to the back office to call Ben's parents. Dean pulled a roll of glucose tablets out of his pocket and as luck would have it, there was only 2 left. His spare roll was in his kit in the break room. He ate the ones he had, hoping that his boss wouldn't be long.

He wanted to go and get his other roll, but unfortunately 3 customers came in the store and Dean couldn't leave the register unattended. Dean put a dollar on the register and grabbed a bottle of soda out of the cooler, just in case he started to feel shaky. He didn't know what else to do and once again, he found himself wishing for his amulet. As time went on, it was getting harder to resist it's allure.

He was ringing through a purchase of light bulbs for one of the customers when two men entered the store. Dean didn't know why, but his instincts were immediately heightened and not in a good way. There was just something about the way they were moving that was making the young hunter very wary.

"Welcome to Murphy's Hardware," Dean greeted them. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Yeah, hand over all the money in the till. _**NOW KID!"**_

Dean found himself staring down the barrel of a Glock.

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Mr. Murphy had instructed him on how to handle this situation. He had said that money wasn't worth your life, so Dean opened the till and handed them the money. He just hoped that they would leave and no one would get hurt.

It would have happened like that if fate had not intervened. Sean Murphy had called the cops on his young shoplifter and just as the two men were about to leave, they heard the distinct sound of sirens.

"You trip the alarm, kid?" the first man said as he jammed the gun back into Dean's face.

"No, I swear, we caught a shoplifter, that's all. Just take the money and go. No one needs to get hurt."

"Yeah right, and we walk out into the arms of the cops, no thanks. Everyone get on the ground now," the other man said.

Everyone complied, except one man who decided he had to play the hero. "How about letting one of us go?" he asked. "It's a good will gesture."

"SHUT UP! Get down," one of them screamed. "Willie, what do we do?" he said frantically to his partner.

"I'm thinking, Nicky," the other man said.

That's when Dean knew that this situation had just gotten a whole lot more dangerous. These two were amateurs. This was probably their first time and they were scared, and would, therefore, be a lot more trigger happy.

Everyone, even Dean, complied with the order, except the wannabe hero. He put his arms out to the side and started to walk towards Nicky. Dean read the situation and reacted instinctively. He dove and pushed the guy out of the way just as the gun went off.

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Bobby Singer was in his den repainting his devil's trap. He had his police scanner in the back ground when he heard the reports of shots fired at Murphy's Hardware. His heart immediately stopped beating in his chest. Dean was working tonight. He jumped off the ladder and ran to call John, telling him that he would meet him there.

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Sean Murphy had Ben and Conner Atwood in his office. He was filling out some paperwork when he heard the screaming. He told the boys stay put and went to go investigate. He had just opened the door and stepped out into the hallway when he heard the gun shot.

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Dean felt an explosion of pain in his left shoulder. Man, that hurt. He thanked his lucky stars that the man didn't have a good aim.

"Hey kid," the man he'd saved said. "You alright?"

"I'm good," Dean said through clenched teeth.

"See what you made me do?" Nicky yelled. "Now sit down and shut up until me and Willie find out what to do."

This time, the man did as he was told. Things got worse when Sean startled Willie and he fired. Fortunately, it didn't hit anyone, but Willie used his gun and knocked Sean out. Willie saw the two boys huddled in the office and grabbed them, making them sit with everyone else.

An older woman helped Dean sit up. "It's okay, honey, let me see," she said and tried to examine the injured boy.

"I'll live," Dean said and attempted to wave off her administrations, putting his hand over his shoulder to try and staunch the blood flow.

"Can you get him a towel or something?" the woman requested.

"I have to ask Willie," Nicky said.

Dean watched as the two of them conferred. Willie, who seemed to be in charge, came over.

"One of you is coming with me," he said and went to grab Conner. "I want to warn the police not to come in and I need a hostage."

Conner grabbed his brother tighter.

"Take me," Dean said through ragged breaths. "He's just a kid. If they see I'm injured, they'll know you're serious."

Willie ignored him and started for Conner. Dean knew he had to do something.

"Lock the door," he said suddenly.

"Excuse me?" Nicky said.

"You have to lock the door. What if the police try to come in? If you lock the door, you don't need a hostage," Dean panted. The pain was getting worse and it was getting harder to breathe through it.

Fortunately, Willie seemed to agree and turned away from Conner. He had Nicky go over and lock the door. Dean breathed a sigh of relief.

"That was quick thinking, kid," the wannabe hero said.

Dean just glared at him.

"You're real brave. What's your name, sweetie?" the woman who was tending Dean said.

"De… Dean," he managed to get out.

"How you holding up, Dean?" she asked.

"Peachy," he said, and all of a sudden, he felt himself getting shaky. _Not now, damn it, please not now. _

"Everything alright?" the woman said to Dean. She had 4 kids and 9 grandkids, she could tell when something was wrong, besides the obvious.

Dean glanced towards his coke sitting by the register. "You thirsty, honey?" she asked. "I'll see if I can get some water."

"Coke," Dean insisted. "Trust... uh, just... trust me, coke." Dean really hoped she would listen, but between the pain in his shoulder, and his dropping blood sugar levels, it was getting hard to form a coherent thought.

"Excuse me," she said to Nicky. Can you please get me some water?" the lady requested.

"Coke," Dean said again. He really needed some sugar. He wished the woman would listen to him. He knew he should tell her why, but he couldn't form the words.

The gunman threw a bottle of water at the woman and she held it up to Dean's lips. He sipped it gratefully, but it did little for his blood sugar. He decided to close his eyes. Maybe if he could get his bearings, he could tell the lady why he needed coke.

It wasn't long before the woman felt Dean go slack in her arms. She figured he had finally passed out from the pain. She had been surprised at how he had lasted.

The stand off continued. The two would be robbers becoming more antsy and they started shouting at each other. Then Willie came over with a bag and told everyone to put all their money and their jewellery into it.

The woman went to remove Dean's watch when he stiffened in her arms. She thought he was coming around. "Easy," she said softy when Dean gave a small twitch. She went to remove the bracelets on his other arm when she recognized the silver and red of his bracelet. She immediately checked it and realized why he had been asking for soda.

"Hey sweetie, you with me?" she said and lightly tapped his cheek.

She looked at him and saw his eyes were partially open. This did not put the lady at ease because they didn't appear focused, and all of a sudden, Dean's eyes rolled back and he started to seize.

TBC

Please read and review. I'm not to proud to beg.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Sorry for taking to long to update. There is always one chapter that seems to give me fits and this was it. Hope its okay. Once again I need to add my thanks to Soar for the awesome beta job. Any left over mistakes are my own. Thanks also to JuliaAurelia, Sinead-Conlan, and Soar for all their help and feedback on this chapter.

Disclaimer: Still don't own, still not making any money.

Officer Pete Kendrick sat behind his small desk at the Watertown Police Department. His shift ended in about two hours and he was going to be on vacation for a week following that. He was fervently hoping that he wouldn't get any calls that would take all night, so when a call came in that a shoplifter had been apprehended at Murphy's Hardware, he jumped at it. Some paperwork, a call to the kid's parents, and then he was out of here. It would easily take up the rest of his shift.

He went out to his patrol car and drove toward the hardware store. Traffic was heavy and just before he pulled into the parking lot, he got stuck behind several cars. Even though it was against regulations, he turned the siren on briefly, just to get through it. He entered the parking lot just in time to hear the gun shots.

--

It started out as a quiet night at the Winchester house. Sam was in his room reading, and John was in the kitchen, going over the obituaries in the newspaper. There had been a strange death a few towns over recently. John suspected it was the work of a spirit and he wanted to go and check it out. He wondered if Dean would want to go on a hunt this weekend. Even if Dean was working, it wouldn't hurt for him to miss one shift.

_RING RING_

John stretched, pushed his newspaper away and rose to answer the phone.

_RING RING_

_I'm coming, John thought impatiently. _

_RING RING_

A cold feeling suddenly washed over John. He couldn't explain it, but he didn't want to pick up that phone. He had to force himself to take the phone in hand and lift it from its cradle.

_RING RING_

"Hello," he said tentatively.

"Is your scanner on?" came the tense reply. There were no pleasantries.

"No. Bobby?" John questioned. This was making John even more nervous. Bobby sounded frantic.

"No, it's the Easter bunny," Bobby snapped.

"Knock it off," John growled. "What the hell's going on?"

"Shots were fired at Murphy's Hardware," Bobby said tensely.

John's heart started pounding in his chest. "Dean's working tonight," John replied with a touch of anxiety. "Damn it, Bobby, is he alright?"

"I don't know," Bobby admitted and braced himself for the explosion.

"YOU DON'T KNOW? I THOUGHT YOU WERE LISTENING TO YOUR SCANNER!" John didn't disappoint.

"I was. It just said shots fired. We need to get down there, John."

"I'll meet you there," John said and hung up.

Sam walked into the kitchen to get a drink when he saw his father on the phone. Being trained in the art of hunting, Sam could tell something was up just from his father's demeanor. His father looked pale and he was gripping the phone with almost enough force to shatter it. Something was wrong.

"Sam, wait here. I'll be home later," John ordered, dropping the phone onto its cradle, and grabbing his truck keys.

"Dad, what's going on?" Sam wanted to know, following close at his father's heels.

"I have to get downtown. There was a robbery at the hardware store," John said. He didn't want to tell Sam the truth, but he knew that Sam wouldn't give up until he found it.

"Dad, Dean!" Sam exclaimed.

"I know, Sammy, I have to go. I'll call as soon as I have news," John tried. _Three, two, one..._

"No way! I'm coming with you. He's my brother."

Not wanting to waste time arguing with Sam, John told his youngest he had 2 minutes to get in the car, or he was leaving without him. Driving frantically, John reached his destination in a matter of minutes, arriving at almost the same time as Bobby.

The scene was chaotic. There were cop cars and a SWAT van, two ambulances standing by, and what looked like press vans. There were people everywhere, cops on walkie talkies, and others looking like they were in planning sessions, as they had blueprints, and there was a large crowd of onlookers standing behind the police tape.

John told Sam that under no circumstances was he to leave the car. Then he and Bobby pushed and shoved their way to the front of the crowd. They tried to step over the tape, but as soon as John tried, he found himself being pushed back by two cops.

"Let me through," John ground out.

"Sir, you have to stay behind the tape," One of the cops said forcibly. "Damn vultures," he mumbled to his partner.

"I'm sorry sir. Captain Ryan will be issuing a full statement later."

That's when John realized that they thought he was part of the press. He knew that he could shake his hold on the guy without breaking a sweat, but getting arrested was the last thing he needed.

"I'm not a reporter," John growled. "I'm a father. My son's in that store."

The officer did not release his hold, but he looked at John to see if he might be lying. One look at the scared look on the man's face told him he was telling the truth. Early reports had stated that there were three kids in the store.

"Mr..."

"Winchester, John Winchester. What the hell's going on in there?" John demanded.

"I'll let you speak to the captain." He got on his walkie talkie and John found himself being escorted to a tented area. They refused to let Bobby follow though. Bobby wanted to protest, but like John, he didn't want to cause a scene. He said he would go back to the car and stay with Sam.

In the tent, John found who he presumed was the captain, along with a well dressed couple. There was also another man who looked to be a few years older than Dean.

"Mr. Winchester, Captain Evan Ryan," the officer said sticking out his hand.

John ignored it. "What the hell's going on?" he demanded again.

"From what we can gather, two men tried to rob the place, got spooked, and now there's a hostage situation."

"Is anyone hurt?" the woman in the designer suit asked as she clutched her husband's arm tightly.

"We don't know at this point. All we have is Officer Kendrick's report that when he arrived, he heard two shots fired."

"Now see here," the man in the expensive suit said. "I'm Judge Norman Atwood. I have a fair amount of influence in this town. Perhaps if you let me speak to the men, we can negotiate a settlement and I can get my sons."

"Judge Atwood," Captain Ryan said with exasperation. "We have a trained hostage negotiator here. He is going to attempt to make contact with the men, so we don't want to aggravate the situation."

John guessed that this was not the first time that Judge Atwood had suggested this. He couldn't blame the guy really. If there weren't so many cops around, he would have pulled out the colt .45 he had tucked into his waistband and stormed the place.

"Please captain, have you heard anything at all? My grandmother's in there," the young man said.

"So's my son," John reminded the Captain.

Before Evan could say anything else, there was a commotion outside the tent. They all jumped up and looked through the open flap. John could see that two men were trying to catch what looked like a small streak. The next thing John knew, it slammed into him. He looked down into the eyes of his youngest son. Bobby wasn't far behind him.

"Sammy, I thought I told you to wait in the car," John said, trying to be angry.

"I can't," Sam stammered. "I just want to make sure Dean's alright," he said and he gave John his best puppy dog look, his eyes filling with tears.

Everyone melted, even the two limping officers that Sam had kicked while trying to get to his father. John knew that he should be angry, but he was surprised at how proud of his youngest son he felt. Sam didn't let anyone stop him when he was determined. John was only really surprised at how long it took Sam to make an escape attempt. He was surprised that he had gotten past Bobby, though, the man had the reflexes of a cat, but when he saw Bobby exchange a wink with his youngest son, he knew that it was Bobby who had given Sam the idea in the first place.

It wasn't long afterwards that things started happening.

The captain got a call on his walkie talkie and then he disappeared. They could hear a call for paramedics and everyone in the tent tensed. John wanted to bolt. In his heart, he knew it was Dean. Captain Ryan was back a few minutes later with a grave look on his face.

"First, I want to say that the two men have given themselves up. Judge and Mrs. Atwood, your boys are with Officer Kendrick. Mr. Brolin your grandmother's fine. She's in the store with a young boy and is refusing to leave his side until his father gets there.

The young man smiled. That sounded like his grandmother. The Atwoods quickly took off and Captain Ryan turned back to the two men and the young boy before him. Sometimes he really hated his job.

--

After getting the news about Dean, John, Sam and Bobby took off toward the store. Apparently, when Dean had his seizure, Willie and Nicky, thinking that Dean was dying and not wanting to be responsible for the death of a kid, had surrendered.

The paramedics, Tammy Eckles and Dylan Mitchell, had been told that there was one gun shot victim, and when they entered the store, it was to find said victim in the midst of a grand mal seizure.

"HELP HIM!" the older woman at his side screamed.

"What's wrong?" Dylan asked as he knelt next to the patient.

"He's diabetic. He was asking for coke, but I didn't know, so I got him some water. Then he started to seize. He's also got a gunshot wound in the shoulder. He saved that man's life." The lady said pointing at one of the other hostages still in the store.

"You said he was asking for coke?" Dylan quizzed. He needed to know if the patient's glucose level was too high or low. The wrong treatment could kill him.

"Yes, I thought he was just thirsty, and then they wanted our jewellery and I saw his bracelet," the lady explained frantically.

"Tammy, we need a glucose injection stat and a blood sugar," Dylan said. With Dean seizing, he wasn't sure if he could safely attempt a blood sugar reading, and he really hoped that this woman was giving him the correct information. If the kid had asked for coke, he had to know that his blood sugar was dropping.

Tammy pulled out a syringe and drove it swiftly into Dean's thigh. They all breathed a sigh of relief when the seizure quickly stopped.

Sam, John and Bobby rushed in just as Tammy injected Dean. John grabbed his youngest and pulled him into a bear hug so that he wouldn't see his big brother in his current state. It was hard enough for John and Bobby to see it.

Sam tried to wriggle out of his father's hold, he needed to get to Dean, but John just held on tighter.

"They have to turn him," Sam said desperately to his father.

John caught onto what his youngest son was saying. "He gets sick from the glucose shots," John informed the paramedics who managed to turn Dean onto his side.

"Dylan, I'm going to set up a glucose IV, sugar's only 57. Can you insert an NG? He's still not conscious and I don't want him aspirating if he gets sick."

"Sure thing, Tammy. Then I'll look at bullet wound," Dylan said and looked up. "What's your son's name?" he said addressing John.

"Dean Winchester," John managed to say. "Is he going to be alright? Tell me he's gonna be alright?" John begged frantically.

"We're doing everything we can," Tammy reassured the distraught father. "What's your name, sweetie?" she said to Sam.

"Sam. Dean calls me Sammy. Drives me crazy," Sam answered. He had no idea why he added that last part, he just felt he had to.

"Can you help me out here, Sam? Can you hold the IV while I look at your brother's shoulder?" Tammy asked, trying to keep Sam occupied.

Sam grabbed the IV, grateful to be able to do something. "Help my brother," he insisted.

"He's in good hands."

John stood behind Sam with a hand on his shoulder, offering support to his youngest. Bobby knelt beside Dean and picked up his hand, being careful of the IV. "It's okay, Dean," he whispered, then he looked up at Tammy. "Can we get a blanket or something? Give him some privacy," Bobby said firmly with a glance to all the onlookers in the store.

"Sure, sorry," Dylan said. He quickly finished inserting the NG tube and covered Dean's legs with a blanket. Sometime during his seizure, Dean had lost control of his bladder.

The small family continued to listen to the medical jargon being passed back and forth and were more than a little relieved when they finally strapped Dean to a backboard and loaded him into the waiting ambulance. "We have room for one," Dylan said.

"Johnny, go," Bobby replied. "I'll take Sam in the Impala and follow you."

"His doctor is Dr. Alex Conlan," Bobby informed the paramedics and pushed a protesting Sam out the door.

When the two arrived at the hospital, they found John pacing in front of the double doors to the emergency room. He was running his hand through his hair in such frustration that Sam was surprised that he hadn't pulled it out.

John pulled his youngest son into another big bear hug. "Dean's going to be fine, Sammy," John said trying to convince himself as well as his youngest son.

"Have you heard anything?" Bobby inquired. He was trying not to panic himself.

"No," John admitted. "Right now, they're trying to stabilize his blood sugar. It has to be over a 100 before they can attempt surgery. There's no exit wound, the bullet's still lodged in his shoulder. "

"I wanna see him, dad," Sam said near tears.

"I know you do, Sammy. I do too."

They kept a close eye on the trauma room where Dean had been taken. It didn't help that there seemed to be a flurry of activity, with doctors and nurses going in and out of the room. They even saw Dr. Conlan disappear behind the door.

Finally, a doctor emerged. "Dean Winchester's family?" she asked, looking around the room. The three of them quickly converged on her and John recognized her as the doctor that had treated Bobby when he was first admitted.

"How is he?" they all asked in unison.

"He's regained consciousness, but he's rather agitated. I need one of you to come with me to help calm him down. He's fighting everything we're doing," she explained.

Bobby, John and Sam all breathed a sigh of relief over that.

"I wanna go," Sam said.

"I'm sorry, but we don't allow children in the trauma room," the doctor apologised.

"But..." Sam tried to protest.

"I'm going," John said firmly. He turned toward his youngest son. "I need you to wait with Bobby, Sammy. I'll let you know what's going on as soon as I can." Then he followed the doctor behind the curtained area.

--

John gasped when he saw his son. Dean was covered with tubes and wires, although John did take some comfort in the fact that Dean only had an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose rather than a ventilator. Dean was, at least, breathing on his own.

Dean's eyes were at half mast and John could tell that his eldest was trying hard to stay conscious. He was, however, trying to pull the mask off his face with his good arm. John let himself relax a little more. He would have been more worried if Dean wasn't fussing.

He walked up to the gurney and leant over so that he could look Dean in the eye. He lightly stroked Dean's forehead. "I'm here, son," he said reassuringly.

Dean looked at his father and once again, his hand tried to remove his oxygen mask. John took hold of Dean's hand, he was weak so it didn't take much to stop him. "It needs to stay on, buddy," John said, trying to keep his tone gentle, yet firm at the same time.

"Sammy," Dean said, his eyes darting wildly around the room, as if looking for the person he was inquiring about.

"He's worried about you but fine. Just relax, Dean, and let them do what they need to do."

"They... take... wanted... Sammy," Dean tried again, his voice muffled by the mask and the hiss of oxygen.

"I told you, Dean, he's fine," John said once more.

"Hurt... wanted... Sammy... take," Dean gasped, his frustration growing.

John had no idea what his eldest was talking about. "Dean, Sammy's okay. He's worried about you, but he's fine." He knew that he was repeating himself, but he didn't know what else to say.

Dean's frustration was growing. He had to make them understand. They were going to take Sammy. Dean wanted to know where Sam was and if he was okay.

"Sammy," he said again. This was their last chance. If they didn't tell him where Sammy was, he was just going to go himself and find him. He tried to sit up, but when he felt hands trying to hold him down, he started to panic. Those robbers might have his brother

"15mg Ativan, IV push. Now!" The doctor ordered.

That's when John understood what was happening. If Dean's blood sugar was too low, it could cause confusion. He'd been told that one of the robbers wanted to use Conner Atwood as a human shield. Protecting his brother was so ingrained into Dean that his mind was substituting Conner for Sammy.

"Wait," he said, just before the nurse could inject the meds.

"Mr. Winchester, he needs to calm down," the doctor insisted.

"Give me a minute," John stated firmly. "You called me in to calm him down, so let me." John reached up and put his hands on either side of Dean's head and gently turned it so that he was eye to eye with his father. Right now, he knew it would do no good to try and convince Dean that Sam hadn't been in that store. "Sammy's safe, Dean. You did real good. I'm real proud of you, buddy." He glanced back to the doctor. "Get his brother," he ordered.

"Mr. Winchester," the doctor said sounding exasperated. "Children are not allowed back here."

"It's the only way he's going to calm down," John explained.

"He's right," Dr. Conlan added. "His blood sugar's only 77 and it's contributing to his confusion. He's probably thinking his brother was in that store. He just needs to see that the boy's safe. I'll get him," Dr. Conlan offered and then he disappeared. When he returned, it was with Sam, but Bobby wasn't far behind him.

"Dean, buddy," John said to his son. "Look, see, Sammy's with Bobby. He's safe. You did real good, son, I'm proud of you," John repeated.

After laying eyes on his brother, Dean visibly relaxed. His eyes drifted shut and he allowed his body to fall into the darkness that had been calling him for some time.

--

The Winchesters and Bobby were not happy when they were relegated back to the waiting room, while the doctor's continued trying to stabilize Dean. It took another couple of hours before the doctors came back and told them they were taking Dean to surgery. They were then escorted to another waiting room on the surgical floor. At least this one had comfortable chairs, and they settled in for more waiting. There was an awkward silence in the room, no one really knowing what to say.

John was feeling added guilt. He knew that he'd gotten lax with keeping on top of Dean's illness these last couple of months, but he couldn't explain why. The only reason he could think of was that if Dean's illness got out of control, he could just slip the amulet over his son's head. He startled with a sudden realization. Was that what he had been trying to do? Subtly force his son to wear it so that he could start hunting again.

If that was the case, he was the world's worst father. Was he really willing to put his son at risk just so he could hunt down Mary's killer? Of course, the fact that he'd been doing that since Mary had been killed didn't cross his mind.

Bobby made a token gesture to go for coffee, just to break the oppressive silence in the room. John declined and Bobby was kind of glad, because he didn't want to leave in case Dean's doctor showed up.

"Bobby, there is something you can do for me, though," John requested.

"What's that?" Bobby asked.

"I want you to go to our place and get Dean's amulet. It was too close this time," John said firmly.

"I don't know if that would be a good idea right now," Bobby refused.

"This is what you got it for," John said, a touch of frustration entering his voice. "To stop Dean from getting hurt."

"Damn it, Johnny," Bobby said, his level of frustration matching John's. Didn't the man listen to anything he said? He pulled off his grease stained, tattered ball cap and wrung it in his hands before putting it back on his head. "I told you that thing didn't make him bullet proof." He was beginning to see just what Jefferson and Joshua had been talking about.

"I get that, Bobby, but if we put that thing around Dean's neck, then it's going to stabilize his blood sugar, right?"

"It will," Bobby agreed. "But I warned you, Johnny..."

"You said that it was Dean's decision and I respected that..."

"Did you?" Bobby suddenly accused.

"Excuse me?" John said, anger replacing frustration in his tone.

"Did you respect Dean's decision? I know what's been going on these last couple of months. The food, being late picking up his supplies, or not picking them up at all. It's your own way of forcing him to wear it."

"That's not true and you have no right to accuse me of anything, Singer, when you..."

"STOP IT!" Sam yelled. "This isn't about you two. It's about Dean. Don't fight," Sam said practically begging.

John and Bobby both looked a little ashamed at being chastised by a 12 year old, but they knew that Sam was right.

"Bobby, would the necklace help Dean?" Sam wanted to know. "Dean has to be... I mean, I can't..." Sam trailed off. He couldn't voice the words.

John got up, crossed the room and sat down next to his youngest son. He put his arm across Sam's shoulders and pulled him in close. He felt Sam snuggle into he chest, much like had when he was a small child and scared. He, like Dean, felt safe in his father's arms.

Bobby looked at the Winchesters seated before him. "Sam, John, I need you to listen to me. We can't put it on him while he's in the hospital. If he's got it on, he no longer needs insulin. How do we explain that to the medical staff and yes, the amulet will stabilize Dean's blood sugar, but remember, if he loses it and goes without if for more than 48 hours, his health returns to the state it was in when he put it on. It's not like a reset button. So putting it on and then taking it off isn't an option because we're right back to where we started from, and if he's in here for more than two weeks it takes away the option of him being able to use it when he gets out of here." Bobby tried to explain.

"Then why'd you get it for him?" Sam asked in confusion.

"Because diabetes isn't terminal unless you don't look after yourself. If his blood sugar's stable when he puts it on, then it's stable if he loses it, or decides not to wear it anymore. He can go back to his injections like normal," Bobby clarified.

"So what you're saying is that thing could hurt my son," John accused.

"Not if it's used right," Bobby defended himself.

Before anyone could say anything else, a doctor appeared at the door way.

--

Dr. Daniel Jensen made his way down the hall towards the surgical waiting room. He could feel the tension in the room when he walked in.

"Mr. Winchester?' he asked as he looked at the two men before him, trying to figure out which one was the boy's father.

"That's me," John said and stood up.

"Maybe you'd like to come to my office," Dr. Jensen suggested.

"You can say whatever you need to. This is my brother and youngest son. You might as well tell us all at once," John requested.

"Okay, have a seat," Dr. Jensen said.

That caused the heartbeats of all three of Dean's family to speed up. If they had good news, they usually just blurted it out. They didn't make you sit down for good news.

"I'm Dr. Daniel Jensen, I'm a neurologist. First of all, I'll put your minds at ease. Dean came through surgery like a trooper, and although it will take time, he should be fine."

There were three identical sighs of relief, but they were short lived. They were still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Were there any complications from his diabetes?" John asked.

"Not during surgery, but we're monitoring his blood sugar very closely. He's still unconscious, so we have him on a glucose IV to try and keep his blood sugar up. He's got an NG tube inserted due to the fact the fact that the glucose IV is causing him to get sick. Once he's awake though and eating, we should be able to remove both. He's also on an insulin pump right now, and his endocrinologist will decide when to remove that. As you know, diabetes can make you susceptible to infection, so we're giving him Keflex to try and prevent it. Just so you're aware, we're giving that to him through a central line in his chest. We'll keep that in for the next 24- 48 hours, depending on when he's awake and aware. Then he'll be given oral antibiotics and mostly remain on those for the next couple of weeks. Don't be alarmed over the central line, it doesn't hurt anymore than a regular IV, and the only reason we used it is because we couldn't use Dean's left arm due to his injury. Before I get to the gunshot wound, do you have any questions?" The doctor paused.

"Just tell me what's wrong, doc," John demanded. He could clearly hear a big but in there somewhere.

"Okay, the bullet entered the shoulder, but there was no exit wound. It hit what we call the brachial plexus nerve bundle. It's a large group of nerves that run just under the shoulder joint, and are responsible the arm's ability to function and feel."

_No, No, No, No, No, was all Sam was thinking. Don't say it. Don't you dare say it._

"Doc, please don't say what I think you're going to say," Bobby said, voicing Sam's thoughts out loud.

Sometimes, Dr. Jensen really hated his job. "I'm sorry Mr. Winchester, maybe if we could have gotten him into surgery right away, we may have been able to do more, but right now, there is a possibility that Dean could lose the complete use of his arm."

"Are you telling me that Dean's arm is paralyzed?" John asked in disbelief, shooting a death glare at Bobby.

_**"No!"**_ Sam said firmly. "You have to fix it. Dean can't... you have to go back in and fix it."

John just held his youngest son tighter.

"As of right now, there is no spontaneous movement in the limb. It's too soon to say if it's permanent."

--

The doctor told them that it would probably be another half hour before they had Dean settled, and then his nurse, Julia, would come and get them and take them to see Dean. He also said that he would make sure that they wouldn't have a problem getting Sam in to see his big brother.

Bobby's guilt was matching John's. If he hadn't let Dean make his own decision, then he would have had the amulet on when he got shot. Hell, thought Bobby, if he'd had the amulet on, he mostly likely wouldn't have gotten shot in the first place, because John and the boys would have been long gone.

"Bobby," John said. "I know what you're thinking and feeling guilty isn't going to help."

"Bobby, will the amulet fix his arm?" Sam asked suddenly.

"I, um, I honestly don't know," Bobby stammered. "According to the legend, it's supposed to restore the body's natural harmony, but I've only ever heard of it working with illness. Dean's arm was damaged by a bullet. It may not work," Bobby admitted.

"Why don't you know? You're supposed to know. Didn't you research this thing before you gave it to my brother?" Sam accused.

Bobby sighed over being chewed out by a 12 year old. He wasn't upset, though. He knew that Sam was worried about Dean. "I researched everything I could, but I didn't make the thing, Sammy."

"Don't call me that," Sam snapped.

"Sam, Bobby, enough," John said. Lord help them if he had to be the voice of reason.

"I want to see Dean," Sam said in a small voice.

Once again, John squeezed him tight. "Me too, Sammy."

--

2 Days Later.

Dean had been in and out of various stages of alertness over the last couple of days. John had remained by his side, refusing to leave and Sam and Bobby were his constant companions. John and Bobby had come to the decision that the amulet would affect Dean's arm the same way it would his blood sure. They couldn't do anything until Dean was out of the hospital so they would decide what to do about it then. However, John set a one month deadline. If Dean's arm showed no signs of improvement, then he was going to order his son to put the amulet on, if Dean hadn't decided to put it on himself first.

John glanced up and saw a set of green eyes staring back at him, and for the first time, there was a hint of recognition in them.

"Hey Dean," John greeted as he stood and walked over to his son's bed.

"Hey dad," Dean croaked, his voice hoarse from lack of use. He looked around the room. "Sammy?"

"Is fine. Bobby dragged him out for something to eat."

"Who dragged Bobby?" Dean asked, causing John to grin.

_Three, two, one... John thought._

"When can I go home?"

John grinned wider. "It's going to be awhile, kiddo."

Dean didn't say anything, he was taking stock of his injuries. The finger tips on his right hand were killing him, he guessed from constant blood sugar checks, and he knew the NG tube was back, he could also tell that he had an oxygen cannula under his nose. He could see at least two IVs in his right arm and he could hear the beep of a heart monitor. He saw a line snaking under his hospital gown and realized that he had an IV in his chest. There was also a line running into his abdomen which, if he had to guess, was feeding him insulin. His left arm was in a sling, but there was a series of complicated straps that further immobilized it. They had it bound so securely that not only couldn't he move it, he couldn't feel it either.

John heard the heart monitor speed up. He really didn't want have to explain this to his eldest. "Easy, Dean," John said and lightly stroked the hair on Dean's head. He had almost put it on Dean's left arm, but he didn't want to explain, just yet, why Dean wouldn't be able to feel it. He quickly ran through an explanation of his son's tubes and their estimated time of removal, hoping that would ease Dean's anxiety. It worked until Dean looked from his arm to his father.

"Can you get them to loosen this? It's too tight. I think it's cutting off my circulation," Dean said to his father.

"Dean," John said seriously. "It's not too tight."

Dean looked at his father, begging him not to say it.

"The bullet hit a nerve bundle in your arm, there was some damage, Dean," John said gently.

Dean shook his head. "Don't, dad, just don't," he begged. One look at his father's face told Dean everything he needed to know. "Can they fix it?" he asked, a hint of desperation coloring his tone.

John's heart was breaking. Dean looked so lost. He got up and perched on the side of his son's bed, and hugged him as best he could around the tubes. "It's too soon to tell. They don't know," John admitted.

Dean's eyes widened at what his father had just told him. "My amulet," he said immediately. He couldn't live with one arm.

John shook his head. "We need to wait until you're out of the hospital," he answered and explained what Bobby had told him. "There's no guarantee that it will work on your arm," John said honestly.

Dean didn't want to hear anymore. He just wanted to shut his eyes and pretend that the world didn't exist.

"DEAN!" a voice called from behind them.

Dean quickly swallowed his feelings and put his game face on for his brother. "Hey Sammy," he said neutrally.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'd be a lot better if I could go home," Dean said honestly.

"Hey son," Bobby greeted. He looked to John, wanting confirmation that he had informed Dean about his arm. John nodded slightly.

"Dad said you don't know if the amulet will fix my arm," Dean said, hoping that Bobby would tell him that his dad was lying.

"I don't know. Let's wait and see if the damage is permanent. Give it time, okay Dean?"

_But I don't want to, was what Dean wanted to say. _"Fine," was what he mumbled. He closed his eyes and let himself drift back into sleep. He didn't want to talk anymore.

--

The next day, Dean was a little stronger and able to stay awake for a little longer, so, John sent a protesting Sam back to school. He didn't want Sammy falling behind now that Dean was out of the woods.

There was a knock on the door and Dean looked up to see Dr. Jensen standing there. "Hey, you up for a quick visitor?"

John and Dean looked up and saw the grandmother who had been with Dean in the store. Dean was going to say no, but his father told her to come in before he could protest.

The grandmother, whose name turned out to be Laura Brolin, wanted to tell him how sorry she was that she hadn't listened to him, that she didn't know. Dean told her that it was okay.

"It's a good thing they wanted our jewellery. If I hadn't seen your medic alert bracelet, I wouldn't have known what was wrong," she offered tentatively.

Dean paled at the lady's words and John could clearly see that Dean was getting agitated.

"I think Dean's getting tired," John suggested politely.

"Oh, I hope you feel better soon," she said politely and then left.

"Dean, what's wrong?" John asked.

"Where is it?" Dean said frantically. He'd had his ring around his neck. They didn't get it, did they?

John had to physically prevent Dean from getting out of his bed. His heart monitor sent out a warning, causing Julia to quickly come to his room. She saw her patient trying unsuccessfully to fight the hold his father had on him. His readings were starting to go off the chart. This wasn't good. She immediately paged the doctor, who ordered a sedative.

Once again, John clued in to what was wrong just before the sedative took effect. "It's okay, Dean. Your ring is safe. They didn't get it, buddy. It's in your box at home."

Dean relaxed immediately and let the drugs do their job.

--

The rest of the week passed by and while Dean improved physically, emotionally he seemed to be getting worse. He seemed to have had a setback when it came to staying on his own. Not only did he get upset if he discovered that he was in his room on his own, but the only person he wanted right now was his father. Not even Sam nor Bobby could calm him down. To make matters worse, he was refusing to speak, refusing to see Gray or anyone else who tried to visit. He had retreated inside himself, lying in his bed with his eyes closed, trying to pretend he was asleep.

For hours, Sam, Bobby and John sat by his bed, trying to convince Dean how big a hero he was for saving the other hostage's life, and sticking up for Conner, but they were getting nowhere.

Dean's feelings of low self worth started taking over. He didn't think he had saved anyone, he had just screwed up again and gotten himself hurt, and now, he was useless to everyone. He just wanted everyone to go away and leave him alone.

It was killing John to see how badly Dean was hurting. He didn't know how to help his son and it was causing his heart to break. The only solution he could come up with was to go and get Dean's amulet, but if it didn't help his arm, John knew that it was going to send Dean into a deeper funk, and if by some miracle it did give him back the use of his arm, it wouldn't cure how Dean was feeling. The amulet would allow him to bury it, like he did with everything else he didn't want to deal with and John knew that he needed to deal with this.

He heard a knock at the door and saw Gray standing there. John smiled, his first genuine one in days. No matter how many times Dean refused to see him, he kept showing up.

"Hey Gray," John greeted the young man and stepped out of the room and into the hallway.

"Hi Mr. Winchester. How's Dean?" Gray asked.

"Same," John answered.

"Will he see me?" Gray asked tentatively and looked into his friend's room.

"He's still refusing visitors," John explained.

"Stupid, stubborn idiot," Gray mumbled affectionately.

"He just needs time," John said, trying to make excuses. "He did this after his mother..." John paused. "He didn't speak for about two months."

"He was entitled to after he lost his mother. This time, he saved a guy's life. He's had enough time," Gray insisted and pushed past a surprised John and took his seat next to Dean's bed, greeting his friend.

Dean opened his eyes and shot his father a death glare. He wanted to be left alone. Why didn't anyone listen to him?

"There's a lot of gossip to catch up on, Dean," Gray said. "Let's start with Jamie."

Dean had no choice but to listen politely.

John's grin got wider. He watched as, for the first time in days, Dean turned and looked at the person talking to him. All of a sudden, an idea popped into his brain. He remembered some advice Jim had given him regarding his eldest, to make Dean look at what was right in front of him. Dean had his family and his friends, and John suddenly had an idea that he hoped would help restore Dean's confidence. One that didn't involve the amulet, one that he hoped would genuinely make Dean feel better.

TBC

Please remember to read and review. Reviews make my day.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Disclaimer: Still don't own.

Thanks to Soar, JuliaAurelia and Sinead-Conlan for their feedback and suggestions.

Officer Pete Kendrick was seated behind his desk. It was his first day back from vacation, and he was only now reading the reports from the hostage crisis at the hardware store. The reports gave the version of events from the owner of the hardware store, the Atwood boys, the grandmother, and Lewis Welton, the wanna be hero. He still needed a statement from the Winchester boy, but they had been leaving him to recover, as there was no hurry. They had full confessions from both Willie and Nicky. Pete was just trying to decide when to schedule an interview with Jonathan when he heard a commotion, which caused him to look up from his paperwork. The man before him looked familiar, but Pete couldn't quite place him.

"Excuse me," the man said.

Pete got up and went to the front desk. "Help you?" he asked the man standing before him.

"My name's John Winchester, my son Dean was injured in the hold up at Murphy's Hardware."

"Oh, of course, Mr. Winchester. How's your son doing?" Pete asked, genuinely interested.

"Fortunately, the seizure did no permanent damage, but he still has no feeling in his arm," John said honestly.

Pete felt bad for the boy. "We're all rooting for him," Pete informed John sincerely.

"Thanks."

"Is there something we can help you with?" Pete asked again.

"Um, yeah," John said. He hated asking people for things, but he really felt that this would help his son. He explained the problem as best he could to the officer. Pete told John to wait and he would go speak to his captain to see if there was anything that could be done.

An hour later, everything was all arranged and John headed back to the hospital.

--

"Come on, Dean," Bobby said to the stubborn young man in the bed, as he laid a stack of textbooks on Dean's beside table.

"No," Dean said stubbornly.

"You're falling behind in your school work further everyday. There's no reason you can't do some work on it."

"I don't feel like it," Dean said refusing to budge.

"It's not a negotiation. You heard your father. He's going to want to see what progress you've made when he gets here tonight."

"Leave me alone," Dean said in a tone that could only be described as a whine.

"No," Bobby said just as stubbornly. John had been called back to work that day, so Bobby had offered to stay with Dean. "How about some math? It's not like that's work for you."

"I. Don't. Want. To," Dean ground out slowly.

"Tough," Bobby said and opened up Dean's math textbook to the page that the assignment sheet said. "Now, first question."

Dean's answer was to sweep his good arm across the bedside table, causing books and papers to fall to the ground with a bang. "I said no," Dean repeated.

Bobby's emotions were all over the place. He really felt for Dean. It wasn't fair that he had to suffer, and Bobby just wanted to pull him into his arms and keep him safe. The other half of him wanted to throttle John's eldest. It wasn't like Dean to give into self pity. The sad fact was, option two would probably work better to pull Dean out of his funk. Since Gray's visit, he was at least talking again, but that was about it. His day consisted of staring at the TV and his arm, when he thought no one was watching him.

"Damn it, Jonathan Dean," Bobby said, letting his temper get the better of him. Dean needed a firm hand. As much as Bobby wanted to comfort him, he knew Dean wouldn't allow it.

Dean stared at Bobby. It was rare that the man got angry with him and even rarer that he called him by his full name.

"Did I come at a bad time?" a man said coming into the room. He could see the papers and textbooks scattered on the floor and felt the tension in the room.

"No," Bobby said at the same time as Dean said, "Yes."

"No," Bobby said again, overriding Dean. Dean just glared at him. "Can I help you with something?" The man looked official and Bobby wondered if he was a cop coming to take Dean's statement. _Good luck on that one, Bobby thought._

"Hi, I'm James Masters. I work with the Watertown PD."

Dean shot Bobby another glare, and Bobby had no trouble reading this one. 'Make him go away'.

Bobby just laid his hand on Dean's good shoulder. "You with the cops?' he asked gruffly.

"I work for them, but I'm not a cop. I'm a scientist. More specifically, a forensic mathematician."

"A what?" Bobby asked. Just what the hell had John been up to? He really needed to have a talk with his friend and remind him of the definition of communication.

"A forensic mathematician," James repeated. "It's not a well known field. I'm here because a John Winchester arranged for me to visit his son. You must be Dean," he said addressing the young man in the bed.

Dean just nodded.

"From what I can understand, you're a pretty good math student."

Dean shrugged his good shoulder.

"Dean, first I need you to speak with Officer Kendrick, and then I want to show you a few things."

Despite himself, Dean was curious about who James was. He nodded his agreement and Mr. Masters called the police officer in, and for the next 20 minutes, Dean told Kendrick what he could remember. His statement matched everyone else's, so Pete thanked him and left shortly afterward.

Dean turned back to his visitor and watched as he pulled out a diagram. "Sorry about that, but the cops needed your statement before I could show you this. We don't want the defense attorneys saying your statement was biased."

Both Bobby and Dean watched as James extracted a drawing from his brief case and laid it on Dean's bedside table.

Dean shuddered when he saw it was a drawing of the layout of the hardware store. He really wanted to just forget all about that day. Bobby watched as Dean unconsciously wrapped his good arm around his bad one, as if trying to remind himself it was still there. The elder hunter decided then and there that he and John needed to have another little chat.

James didn't seem to notice their uneasiness, as he was busy setting up the diagram. He had removed several other things from his briefcase and Bobby realized that they were drawings of the people in the store. He decided that a chat wasn't going to be enough. He needed to introduce John to the business end of his shotgun.

James pulled Dean's bedside table over and laid the diagram on it so that Dean could see it clearly. Dean had to force himself to look at it. He wanted to sweep it onto the floor with his school books.

"As you can tell, this is a diagram of the store. This is where everyone was at the time the incident took place," James said pointing. "This is where Nicky was standing when he shot at Lewis Welton. That's the guy whose life you saved."

"I didn't," Dean insisted, finding his voice. "I just pushed him out of the way."

"That's where you're wrong," James said firmly. "This is what I do. I use math to reconstruct crime scenes. You'd be surprised at the amount of information we can get from heights, positions, angles and trajectories. To be more specific, in this case, bullet trajectories."

James then proceeded to show Dean that based on Nicky's height, the angle of the gun, and Lewis's position, the bullet would have hit him in the stomach, and given the length of the standoff that followed, it was a near certain fact that he would have bled to death. He demonstrated that on the diagram and then showed Dean the equations he had used to figure it out, so that Dean would know he wasn't making up the facts. Most of the math was over Dean's head, but James took extra time and explained it slowly, and Dean felt that he could understand it with more practice, and despite himself, he was slowly becoming intrigued by what James was showing him.

Bobby, on the other hand, was completely lost. He did glance over at Dean and couldn't help but smile when he saw that Dean was fascinated. His face had lost the sullen, depressed, gloomy look that it had worn since Dean had regained consciousness.

"Dean, I'm going to go grab some coffee," Bobby said wanting to test a theory.

Dean looked up. He had forgotten Bobby was in the room. "'Kay," he said vaguely and turned his attention back to James. "What would have happened if I had pushed him from here," Dean said pointing to a spot on the diagram.

"Let's see if you can figure it out?" James challenged him.

"Okay," Dean said slowly.

Bobby walked out of the room and headed toward the cafeteria with a new attitude toward John Winchester. _Johnny, if you were here right now, I would kiss you. _Bobby ended up eating a whole meal. He had a feeling that Dean was going to be a while. Bobby was kind of glad that John hadn't told him about the visitor, because if he had known he was coming and Dean had showed any signs of distress, Bobby would have run him off so as not to upset Dean any further. He grinned as he realized that the man he considered a brother knew him as well as he knew John.

It was a good two hours before Dean ran out of questions and James left. When Bobby got back to Dean's room, he did notice a subtle difference in his young friend. Dean didn't say much about the visit, but he knew that Dean had enjoyed it and he would let Bobby know that in his own time and way.

"Bobby, about earlier…" Dean said softly after his visitor had left.

"It's alright, son," Bobby said letting him off the hook. "Now, let's try this again," he said as he picked up Dean's math book and laid it in front of him.

Dean opened the textbook and pick up his pencil. He worked steadily for about a half hour. He was having trouble concentrating though, his mind kept drifting back to everything James had shown him. He had left Dean with some pamphlets and brochures about what he did, and Dean really wanted to look through them, but he didn't want to do it in front of anyone. He had a rep to maintain after all.

When John showed up with Sam and Gray that afternoon, Dean thanked his father for arranging the visit. He was also friendlier to his brother and friend. He even laughed and joked and bantered with Sam.

John, however, was more worried than ever. His plan had worked somewhat, Dean now truly believed that he had saved a guy's life, but John knew that it also gave his son an excuse to bury his feelings toward his arm. It was a subject that was taboo. Dean wouldn't talk about it, or let anyone else mention it. If someone tried, he changed the subject quickly. John was wondering if he should let Dr. Jensen bring in a counsellor to speak with Dean. He needed to deal with his injury, not ignore it, but John knew that if he tried, it would send Dean back into his funk, and that was something John really wanted to avoid, so against his better judgement, he let Dean be.

An announcement came over the loud speaker that visiting hours were ending soon and Dean convinced his father that he would be fine by himself. He hadn't been alone since he had been shot. He realized that had been at his own request, but right now, he really needed some space to get his head together. Against his better judgement, John agreed and said he would be back in the morning before Dean woke up.

The first thing Dean did when everyone had left was to retrieve the brochures he had hidden in his math book. His brother had made sure that he had everything within easy reach on his right side. He spent some time looking through them, reading about what the job entailed, and the one thing his mind kept coming back to was, could he do it with one arm? It was the one question that he didn't want to ask James. He didn't want to hear the answer.

His eyes drifted down toward his useless limb. It was wrapped tight in an immobilizer that Dean hated and wanted gone. He had worn a sling two times before when he had dislocated his shoulder. When he had moved his shoulder then, it had hurt like hell, but at least he could move it. Not like now.

He concentrated on his fingers, desperately trying to get them to move. He gave a low growl of frustration when they refused to budge.

Trying to distract himself, Dean picked up his physics text and tried to concentrate on his assignments until his nurse showed up to for his check-up.

"How are you feeling tonight?" Julia inquired as she prepared the lancet to test Dean's blood sugar.

"Fine," Dean said giving his standard answer as he extended his right hand to Julia. He tried not to wince as she poked his sensitive fingertips. It normally didn't hurt, as he was usually able to rotate the checks through both hands, but all checks were being done on his right hand at the moment, and with a minimum of 6 checks a day, his fingers were getting sore.

When she was done, Julia took his temperature, and then she removed the immobilizer because she needed to check his stitches. When she was done changing the bandages, she went to put the immobilizer back on.

"Can't I leave it off for awhile?" Dean asked in a hopeful tone.

"Sorry, it needs to stay on," Julia said regretfully.

"I can't move it anyway," Dean protested.

Julia really felt for her young patient. It wasn't fair. "I know you can't feel your arm, Dean, but don't forget that your shoulder's still healing from a gunshot wound, and it's important that you look after it," Julia cautioned.

"But I can't move it, so how can I aggravate the injury?" Dean asked.

Julia had to resist the urge to reach out and brush the hair off Dean's forehead, as there was something about him that just made her want to mother him. "It's doing a lot more than just supporting your shoulder, Dean. It's also protecting it. Since you can't feel it, there's too great a chance of you injuring it and not noticing. It needs to stay on at all times. Even when you're sleeping," Julia added, anticipating Dean's next question. "Speaking of sleep, you should try and get some. Rest is the best medicine."

"When can I go home?" Dean asked, changing the subject. He didn't think he would be able to sleep, and if he mentioned that to his nurse, he was worried that she would inject him with something, and he hated the way the stuff made him feel.

"When your doctors say you can," Julia said patiently. This was a daily question.

Dean resisted the urge to sigh in frustration again. He had two doctors he needed approval from, Dr. Jensen and Dr. Conlan, and he was beginning to wonder just how long it was going to take, as Dr. Conlan had yet to remove him from the insulin pump and put him back on his injections.

After Julia finished her exam and left, Dean laid his head on the pillow and tried to find sleep.

--

True to his word, John was there when Dean woke up the next morning. Sam and Gray also stopped by on the way to school. Sam wanted to see his big brother and Gray had to drop off more assignments.

John told his eldest that he had to work on his school work all day, or he was going to have the TV removed. As hard as it was, John knew that he had to start putting his foot down with Dean, as it was the only way he would respond.

Dean got his wish later that evening when Dr. Conlan gave him a check up and agreed to remove the insulin pump and start him back on injections. Dean didn't fail to notice that the syringes were fully prepared though.

Two days later, Dean's other wish came true when he was released from the hospital. As happy as he was to be going home, he admitted to himself that he was nervous. Everything he needed was right there in the hospital, he didn't actually have to function with one arm. The true test was coming up.

--

The morning of his release did not get off to a great start for the young hunter. A male nurse removed Dean's immobilizer and offered to help him get dressed. Dean refused help and it took him a while to struggle into his jeans. He didn't even bother trying to get his t-shirt on. He just put his over shirt on and fumbled while trying to get the buttons done up. When he was done, he left the bathroom and the nurse helped him bind his arm back up. Dean quickly realized that it was something he was not going to be able to do by himself when he was back home.

The immobilizer consisted of two pieces. The sling his arm went into looked like a standard one, except that there were holes in it. The second piece consisted of a strap that wrapped around his torso and his upper arm, and there were more straps that connected to the holes in the sling and further supported his arm. Dean didn't think he'd be able to put it on by himself with two good arms. After his arm was bound, Dean sat back on his bed and went to put his shoes on. His level of embarrassment reached the stratosphere when he had to get the nurse to tie his shoes for him.

"Hey Dean, you ready to go?" he heard his little brother call.

Dean looked up and saw Sam standing in his doorway, and he was really glad that he hadn't shown up five minutes earlier. "Yup, let's get out of here," Dean said.

"Hold up," John said as he entered Dean's room behind his younger son.

"What now?" Dean said in a tone that could only be described as a whine.

"The doc needs to talk to us," John said and wisely decided to ignore Dean's groan.

"About what?" Dean grumbled. "I know what he's gonna say. Take your meds and leave your arm bound 'cause yo... it's useless," he quickly corrected himself.

John frowned. Had his son been about to say 'because you're useless?' "Dean..." he started, but whatever he'd been about to say died on his lips when the doctor chose that moment to walk into the room. He vowed to have a talk with his eldest when they got home.

"Hey, doc," John greeted. "Can I take my boy home?"

"Yup, just a few last minute instructions. First and most important, make sure to take your antibiotics. I know you're feeling better, but your diabetes makes you more susceptible to infection, and it's important that you finish all of them. Second, keep your arm bound."

Dean shot his father an 'I told you so' look as the doctor continued.

"Make sure you look after it properly, that's important as well. You'll need to come to the hospital daily for physical and occupational therapy on your arm."

"Pardon me?" Dean asked. He'd had PT before, but what the hell was occupational therapy?

"Occupational therapy. It's for people who've suffered traumatic injuries and need to learn new ways to do things."

"I don't need that," Dean insisted. "I can take care of..."

"He'll be there," John confirmed, quickly cutting Dean off and throwing his eldest a glare when Dean scowled.

"Dr. Conlan is off today, so I'm passing on a message. Dean has an appointment with him this coming Friday, and I want to see him on Monday for a check up on his shoulder. I want to do an MRI to see if there's any progress."

"Okay," John agreed. "When can he go back to school?"

"Whenever he feels up to it," Dr. Jensen confirmed.

"Is there anything else we need to do?" John asked as Dean's scowl deepened.

"No, just take it easy."

"Can we just go already?" Dean said impatiently.

--

Dean was glad when they pulled up in front of their house. He exited the car quickly and went to the trunk to grab his bag. Sam was determined to make things as easy on his brother as he could, and make sure he took it easy, so he grabbed Dean's bag before he could.

"Sam," Dean said in a warning tone. He was not an invalid.

"I know, Dean," Sam said knowing what Dean was thinking. "It's just that it's not every day I get to carry the bag of a true hero."

"Sam," Dean said again.

"You can't deny me this, Dean," Sam said and flashed Dean the puppy dog eyes.

_Damn things really need to be registered as lethal weapons, Dean thought. _"Fine," he said grudgingly and followed his father and brother into the house.

John smiled as he watched his boys. They really had each other's backs.

Dean's first stop was his bedroom. He wanted his ring. He opened his dresser drawer and pulled out his box, he lightly ran his fingers over the inscription and opened the cover, and breathed a sigh of relief that his ring was where his dad had said it would be. He was just about to take it out, so he could get his father to put it around his neck, when his eyes fell on the amulet.

Dean picked up the shiny gold object and stared at it. To him, it was both a blessing and a curse. Sure, it would stop him from having to take injections, but it would also cause his father to start hunting again, and end the peace between his father and brother. Dean was surprised to find that he also didn't want to have his father hunting again. He liked having him around and he liked living close to Bobby, and he had to admit that it was nice having friends his own age.

Then there was the fact that Dean didn't even know if it would cure his arm. What if his arm remained paralyzed? He didn't think he could take another hit if the amulet didn't help. So, reluctantly, he put it back in his box and closed the lid and slid it back in his drawer. He thought of his appointment in one week, and vowed that if no progress was made, he would have no choice but to put the amulet on. He had to. He didn't think he could live like this. How could he protect Sammy? No, he was useless like this.

Pushing down those thoughts, Dean picked up his necklace and went to go find his father. He really wanted it around his neck. When his father had put the piece of jewellery securely around his neck, Dean sat at the kitchen table and opened his math book. He was so far behind he was never going to catch up.

He had been working steadily for a couple of hours when he realized that he had to go take his injection before supper. He got his insulin out of the fridge and went to the bathroom. In the hospital, all his needles had been prepared for him, and he realized that this was his first test of trying to function with one arm. Could he do this?

First, he had to test his blood sugar. How the hell was he supposed to do that? He needed one hand to hold the device he used to prick his finger and the other to load the lancet. How was he supposed to hold it and press the plunger? He had been told to avoid using his left hand. He made a decision to skip it. It had been taken before he had left the hospital and it was within acceptable levels. He was getting to be a pretty good judge on whether or not his blood sugar was too high or too low by how he felt, and right now, he felt fine.

He couldn't skip his injection, though. He made sure that he had all his supplies within easy reach. He picked up an alcohol wipe and held it between his teeth and ripped the package open. He opened a second one the same way and set both opened wipes on the counter on top of the empty packages. He picked up the first one and wiped the top of his insulin bottle. He picked up a syringe, glad that they were so small, and awkwardly managed to pull it back to his prescribed dose and injected air into the insulin vial. He then picked the vial up. _Now what? _He was supposed to flip the bottle upside down and draw the insulin into the syringe.

Dean had left the door ajar, and Sam had stood at a discrete distance, watching his big brother. He knew how much Dean hated asking for help, he would stand there for at least an hour first. Making a decision, Sam stepped into the bathroom, picked up the insulin vial and flipped it upside down, holding it in a way that allowed Dean to grip the needle and fill it with insulin.

When the syringe was full, Sam walked out silently. He knew how Dean felt.

Dean placed the syringe on the counter, making sure the needle wasn't touching anything so he wouldn't contaminate it. He lifted his shirt and tucked the excess material under his sling, the dead weight of his arm holding it up. Giving a small smile of satisfaction, he picked up the other alcohol pad, swabbed his abdomen, put the pad in the garbage and picked up the needle and injected his meds, and then he went for supper.

"Dean," John addressed his eldest half way through their meal. "Are you up for heading back to school tomorrow, or do you want to wait until the next day?"

Dean was surprised that his father would give him the choice. On one hand, he just wanted it over with, but on the other, he didn't want to go back, ever.

"Uh, I guess so," Dean stammered. He decided he would rather just face things and get it over with.

After supper consisted of more homework for both boys. Dean had to swallow his pride and ask Sam to help him with his blood sugar check, and he handled his final injection the same way as before. After a snack, John sent the boys to bed.

--

Dean couldn't sleep. He wasn't used to laying on his back and his bed here at home was flat, not raised like it was at the hospital, but he found it even more uncomfortable on his side.

"Hey, Sammy, you awake?" Dean said softly so he wouldn't wake his brother if he was sleeping.

"Yeah," Sam mumbled sleepily, in a tone that told Dean if he had waited another five minutes, Sam would have been asleep.

"Can I ask you something?" Dean said hesitantly.

Sam was instantly alert at Dean's tone. It was telling Sam that there was something he had to know, but didn't really want to ask.

"Did you see me when... uh... you know... when I was..."

"Seizing?" Sam finished Dean's question.

"Yeah," Dean confirmed.

"Why?"

"Did I? I mean, I know it can happen and I was wondering if I did," Dean said.

"Did what?" Sam asked in a confused tone.

_Don't make me say it,__Sammy, please don't. _"During my seizure, did I..."

"Have an accident?" Sam asked.

Dean didn't answer, he just looked toward the door as if deciding whether or not to bolt.

"What difference does it make?" Sam asked, not wanting to answer Dean's question.

"I have to know, Sam," Dean said to his brother.

"It doesn't matter if you did. It wasn't like you could control it."

"I did, didn't I?"

"Forget it, Dean. You couldn't help it," Sam insisted.

That gave Dean the confirmation he was looking for. He leaned back on his pillow and turned his head toward the door. He wouldn't answer when Sam tried to talk to him. Sam sighed and lay back down on his pillow. He wished that he knew how to make his brother feel better.

Dean tossed and turned for another half hour, but he just couldn't sleep. He threw the covers off and went down the hall to the living room.

John was watching TV, although he knew he should be getting to bed. He looked up when he heard a noise and saw his eldest standing in the doorway.

"Dean, it's late and you have school tomorrow. You should be in bed."

'I can't sleep," was all Dean said.

John turned off the TV. "Come here, kiddo," he said to his eldest and Dean walked over and sat on the couch next to his father. John put his arm over Dean's good shoulder and pulled him close, a lot like he had when Dean was little. He felt Dean stiffen for a moment and then lean into him.

"What's on your mind?" John asked.

"Nothing much. You know that Dr. Dick's going to make me go to the resource room until I catch up again. What about physio?" Dean asked.

"Leave Dr. Dick to your old man, okay? You don't need to be worried about that."

Dean grinned. He'd heard about what his dad had done during the time he had been accused of cheating. "Maybe I should be worried about Dr. Dick," Dean said with a little smirk.

"I know that's not what you're really worried about," John said gently.

"Thanks for asking James to come and see me. It was pretty cool seeing that stuff."

"You're welcome. I'm just glad he could help. Now, enough with the stalling. What's going on in that head of yours?"

Dean sighed. "They know," was all he said.

"Who knows what, Dean?" John asked. He knew that Dean was worried about the other kids in his school finding out that he had lost control of his bladder. He just wanted Dean to admit it.

"Everybody knows about..." Dean started and stopped. "It," he finished.

John tightened his hold on his eldest. "You have _**nothing**_ to be ashamed of," John insisted firmly. "And how do you know that everybody knows?"

"Ben was there," Dean said as if that explained everything.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, Dean," John said again in his best 'it's an order' voice. "It can happen during a seizure and it was beyond your control," John said firmly.

"But Ben..." Dean started.

John cut him off. "Dean, buddy, I wish I could tell you that Ben won't use this to make himself seem important, but he probably will. Just remember what I told you. Keep your head held high and don't let him take anything away from you."

"But..." Dean tried again.

John cut him off again. "I know, son. It's not easy when everyone's calling you names. Just remember that your real friends are going to stand behind you. This may not be as bad as you think."

"It'll be worse," Dean mumbled under his breath. "There's a lot to be said for home schooling," Dean said out loud to his father.

"Nice try. Now I think it's time for bed. You're going to school tomorrow."

"Yes sir," Dean said. He really didn't want to move though. His father's arms were always a safe haven.

John honestly didn't want to let go either, and he wished with all his heart that Dean never got too big too fit in his arms, as it was so rare that Dean would even let his father comfort him. "I'm going to turn in as well. You're not the only one that's got to get up early."

--

Dean lay in his bed and heard his father call him. He glanced briefly at his bedside clock and groaned. It was a full half hour before he normally had to get up. He knew his dad had called him early because it was going to take him twice as long as get ready. This only served to increase Dean's feelings of inadequacy. He answered his father as he knew it would only make his father mad if he had to call him twice.

Dean rolled out of bed and went to the kitchen to get his meds. He opened the fridge and found four fully prepared syringes. The young hunter was both pleased and angry about it. He was glad he didn't have to ask for help in getting the syringe ready, but damn it, he wasn't helpless.

He grabbed the one that contained his morning dose and headed toward the bathroom. He stopped in his and Sam's room and was pleased to see his brother awake. Sam knew what Dean needed and he helped him check his blood sugar and removed the immobilizer, so Dean could have a shower.

In the bathroom, Dean adjusted the temperature and started the shower spray and then stepped in. The shower only served to increase Dean's feeling of frustration as he kept trying to reach for things with his left arm. It was almost a major disaster when he slipped getting out. Fortunately, he managed to stop himself, but he was going to have a nasty bruise on his good arm. He was just glad his father and brother hadn't heard, because having his dad and Sammy come storming in there when he was in his birthday suit just would not do. He dried himself, which was extremely awkward with one arm, then he took his meds and cursed himself as he tried to get dressed in the confines of the small bathroom.

After several thumps and curses, Dean finally had his pants and shirt on. He would need help to bind his arm back up though, and he decided to do that after breakfast.

John was going to say something about the lack of the immobilizer when the look on his eldest son's face stopped him. Dean looked miserable. John knew that he was suffering and it was killing him that there was nothing he could do about it. His thoughts drifted toward the amulet. He too shared his son's thoughts. He was half tempted to order Dean to put it on, but John knew that Dean wouldn't be able to take it if there was no change.

After breakfast, Sam and Dean went to finish putting on their uniforms. Dean went to grab his tie and was a little surprised when he found it already knotted. He looked over at his little brother who was standing before the small mirror knotting his own tie. Dean couldn't stop the flash of jealousy as he watched Sam use both his arms to tie the Windsor knot that Dean had taught him not too long ago. He forced it down and awkwardly put his own tie around his neck and did his best to adjust it.

"Uh, Sammy," Dean said tentatively, as he held his immobilizer up.

"I got it," Sam said and helped his brother put it on.

Dean had decided to just drape his blazer over his bad shoulder as it covered some of his arm. Dean didn't want people staring at it. _Good luck on that one, he thought bitterly. _

Dean flushed as red as his blazer when he'd had to get Sam to help him tie his shoes. He _**hated **_this.

No one said a word on the drive to school that morning. Dean's mood was getting worse when John told him that he couldn't drive. The Impala was an old car and it was heavy. John didn't want Dean to attempt to drive it just yet. He dropped Sam off and went to the administration building with his eldest. Like the last time, there was a meeting with Dr. Dick. Because Dean had physio after school, he was given permission to eat lunch in the resource room to work with a tutor to try and catch up.

After they left Dr. Dick's office, John noticed the dark thunder clouds that had descended over his son. As much as John wanted to pull his son into his arms, and tell him that 'daddy would make it all better', he knew he couldn't. For one thing, they both knew it wasn't true, and for another, Dean would resist. As hard as it was, John knew he needed to be firm.

He left his son with standing orders to keep his head up, no matter what, and to stay out of trouble.

--

Dean could feel the eyes on him as he entered his school building. He could hear the hushed whispers as he walked by, and he tried to brace himself for the taunts and laughter and wished they would just get it over with.

He was surprised when no one really said anything to him. After dropping off his insulin at the nurse's station, he headed toward his locker.

He smiled for the first time all day when he saw the friendly face standing in front of it. He did his best to force his emotions down. To make it sound as if he was dealing with all this.

"Good to have you back, man," Gray said genuinely.

"Thanks," Dean not really knowing what else to say.

"Just do me a favour, would you?" Gray asked.

"What's that?"

"I'm getting tired of welcoming you back, would you stop ending up in the hospital," Gray said with a grin and a small chuckle.

Dean gave his own chuckle. "Hey, I go to a boy's school. How else am I supposed to meet girls?" Dean said with a grin. "My nurse was kind of hot. Um, about when I was... you know..." Dean said trying to explain why he hadn't wanted visitors.

"Don't worry about it," Gray said letting him off the hook. "Come on, let's get to class."

The two turned and were about to head out when they saw Jamie, Cody and Ben enter the hallway. Dean again tried to brace himself for what he knew was coming.

What Dean didn't know was that Ben hadn't mentioned a word about Dean having an accident. It wasn't because he'd had a change of heart, it was because he was ashamed that he hadn't done anything in the store. He had been frozen with fear and he was saving the news of Dean losing control of his bladder as his ace in the hole in case they tried to make fun of him.

The other boys in the hallway had all heard about the robbery and that Dean and Ben had actually been in the store. They were naturally curious and wanted all the details and having the two boys there, it was inevitable that the questions started.

There were one or two questions for Ben, but for the most part, the questions were directed toward Dean, with everyone wanting to know what it felt like to be shot, and if his arm was really paralyzed.

Ben watched as Dean gave short one or two word sentences. He knew that he should be glad they weren't asking him what he had done, as he had done nothing, but he was starting to get jealous that Wimpchester was getting all the attention.

"Hey, Ben, how is Conner doing?" Gray asked. He knew that Dean was getting seriously uncomfortable and he wanted to try and get the attention off his friend.

"He's okay," Ben said. He actually didn't know how his brother was dealing with the whole situation. Ben usually didn't have too much to do with him. He was just a junior high student after all.

"That's good," Gray said genuinely.

"How come you didn't offer to trade yourself for your brother, Ben?" Cody suddenly asked.

Ben looked at his friend as if he were a traitor. "I... um... ah, I didn't have a chance. Wimpchester here decided he needed to be the big hero. I guess he was trying to prove to himself that he wasn't a wimp. Right, Wimpchester?" Ben said and gave Dean a pointed look.

Dean immediately flushed red and his gaze fell to the floor as if he suddenly found it fascinating.

"Really?" Cody sneered. "Maybe you're just an At_**wimp**_."

Ben could dish out the teasing, but he couldn't take it. "At least I didn't wet myself. The big hero was so scared he pissed himself. I was there, I saw it," Ben emphasized.

Dean could immediately feel all eyes on him. He couldn't take it anymore. He turned and took off down the hall.

"Dean, wait," Gray called to his friend's retreating back. Dean ignored him. Gray turned back, prepared to give anyone that was laughing a piece of his mind.

"No he didn't," Gray said firmly.

"You're just lying. I was there," Ben said again.

"Listen Jackass," Gray ground out and Ben suddenly found himself slammed against the locker. "He almost died, Ben. Do you get that? He! Could! Have! Died! He had a diabetic seizure. That's what caused him to have an accident, not fear. It couldn't be helped. Jamie, you know what I'm taking about. Your grandmother's diabetic."

"It's true," Jamie confirmed. "It actually did happen to my grandmother," he added and gave a strong glare that no one had better dare say a word against her.

Gray turned back to Ben. "You don't like Dean, fine, but you don't have to use this to make yourself seem important." Gray turned to the rest of the kids in the hallway. "Give the guy a break would you," he ground out and stalked off down the hall toward his math class. He wasn't sure if he had made a difference, but at least he had tried.

--

Gray entered his math class and looked for his friend. His desk was empty, so Gray was relieved when Dean slipped in five minutes after the bell.

Dean had truly considered ditching school, but he had decided to wait until the bell had sounded before entering class. He could deal with a detention for being late. He couldn't deal with his father's wrath if he gave Dr. Dick a reason to suspend him.

He was surprised when Mr. Jeter just greeted him and asked him to have a seat, he was usually strict on tardiness. He wondered if his other teachers were going to give him special treatment.

Dean was a little lost from having missed so much time, but he made himself pay attention. He knew his social life was over. He might as well become a book worm, like Sammy.

When class ended, Dean's teacher asked him to remain behind for a few minutes. Dean was grateful as that meant he could avoid everyone.

Mr. Jeter just wanted to give Dean some assignments to work on in the resource room to help him catch up. Dean tried to bottle his emotions when he had to shrug his backpack off his shoulder and put it on the desk so he could open it with his good arm to put the assignment sheets in it. In the process, it knocked into his arm and caused him to drop his math book. Stifling his cry of frustration, Dean bent over to pick it up. He realized that he still had the pamphlets from James in there when they fluttered to the floor.

Mr. Jeter had also leaned over to pick them up and hand them back to his young student. "Forensic Mathematics," he said as he read the title. "Can I ask where you got these?" he asked curiously.

"Nothing important," Dean said dismissively. "My dad arranged a visit when I was in the hospital. The guy who came to see me gave me those."

"You thinking of going into this as a career?"

"Just looking at them," Dean said hesitantly. He wasn't going to college even though he found the things James showed him really interesting.

"You definitely have the potential," Mr. Jeter encouraged. "It's a growing field and I know MIT has a good program. I mentioned to your dad that I think you'd be a shoe in at MIT."

Dean tried to keep a frown from marring his face. When had Mr. Jeter told his father that he could get into MIT, and why hadn't his dad mentioned it? "Thank you, sir," Dean managed to get out.

"You should stop by the guidance office. They have some literature on different colleges."

Dean was all set to refuse when the thought occurred to him that this would give him another excuse to avoid everyone. He forced himself to smile and thanked his teacher for the advice and let him know that he would do just that.

--

Dean's mood continued to go down hill after that.

He was thankful that he was right handed, but he had never really realized just how much he used his left arm. Things seemed to take twice as long and he felt beyond frustrated when he realized that there were several things he needed help with.

After spending his lunch in the resource room, his frustration turned to anger. He felt hopelessly behind in all subjects, and he berated himself for not making an effort to keep up, like he had the last time he had been in the hospital.

It didn't help that there were boys who teased as he went to classes. As hard as he tried, he couldn't avoid everyone, and there were some boys who directed comments, insults and taunts at him. It wasn't as widespread as Dean had thought it would be, though, some of the boys taking Gray's words to heart.

His anger turned back to despair during auto shop when he realized how much his injury was holding him back. He needed his other arm for a lot of the tasks and he was relegated to passing the others tools and parts. He had never felt so useless in his life.

To make matters worse, his auto shop teacher asked his whole group to stay behind. He told them that due to Dean's limitations it would be hard for him to keep up and his teacher asked Ben, Neil and George if they wanted Dean to remain in their group, as they would have to pick up for him.

He did get a pleasant surprise when Neil and George both told him that they wanted him to stay. Ben reluctantly agreed as George glared at him. Ben was afraid of the larger boy.

--

Dean was extremely grateful when the bell rang, signalling the end of classes. He was still depressed about what had happened today. That he had almost gotten kicked out of his favourite class.

The thought of physical and that occupation therapy, or whatever it was called, was only furthering his depression. He didn't want to sit there while the physical therapist tried to make him move his arm. It was hopeless. The thing was dead. He didn't want to listen to some sugary sweet therapist telling him he was doing such a good job as she tried to teach him to tie his shoes with one arm. He had been tying his own shoes since he was five. He had spent five hours trying to figure it out on his own as he kept an ear out for Sammy, while his father had been at the library.

He had been figuring things out on his own since he was four and he knew he could figure this out on his own if everyone would just leave him alone.

Dean found Gray after his last class and asked for a ride. He knew he would catch hell from his father, but he didn't care, and he asked his friend to drop him off at Bobby's.

--

Bobby was in his home office working on his books when he heard a car pull up. He could hear a door open and close and then the car pulled away.

Instinct told him that it was mostly like Dean. His suspicions were confirmed when no sooner had he risen to go greet the boy, than his phone rang.

It was a furious John wondering if his son was there. John had gone to pick him up from school to take him to his appointment, and he was worried when he couldn't find him.

Even though he hadn't seen Dean, Bobby knew without a doubt that he was there, and reassured the nervous father. He then managed to convince John that it would be better if he spoke to Dean first, and he would bring him home afterward. Bobby knew that John's eldest was on the edge of a very steep cliff, and one wrong move was going to sent him plunging into the abyss. He said a quick prayer and headed out toward the garage where he was certain he would find the young hunter.

"Dean," he said softly and felt relief flood him when he saw that Dean was where Bobby had thought he would be.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean greeted his friend as if this was just a regular afternoon visit, and he hadn't just ditched his appointments.

"How'd your first day back go? Ben give you much trouble?" Bobby asked tentatively, trying to gauge Dean's mood.

Dean didn't say anything. He just turned back toward the bench he was sitting at and turned the page of the book he was reading.

Bobby walked over and sat down next to Dean. "What's that?" he asked.

"It's not important," Dean said trying to shove it out of the way.

Bobby was faster. He grabbed it and ignored Dean's protests. He looked down and saw a picture of a campus, and a bunch of happy students milling around with books under their arms. Bobby was surprised to see that it was a college brochure. He was even more surprised and impressed when he flipped it to the front and saw the name of the school, Massachusetts Institute of Technology. "Dean," he said looking up at John's eldest.

"It's nothing," Dean said again.

"It's not," Bobby insisted. "You thinking of applying?"

"I'm only a junior," Dean pointed out

"I didn't mean today."

"Mr. Jeter said I could probably get in," Dean said and shrugged his good shoulder. "It doesn't really matter anyway, I'm not going to college. Just trying to get my teacher off my back," Dean said coming up with an excuse.

Which Bobby didn't buy for a minute. He saw how fascinated Dean had been with what James had shown him in the hospital.

"What do you want to study?" Bobby asked ignoring Dean's last remark.

"I..." Dean said and hesitated. Would Bobby understand what he was thinking? Could he tell him?

"Talk to me, son," Bobby said firmly.

"I...um, I was just curious about it. James gave me some pamphlets on what he does. They use them at schools for career day, and it's kind of cool what he does," Dean admitted. "Mr. Jeter said that there was a good program at MIT and that he thought I had a chance of getting accepted. It's a stupid idea though. I don't even want to go to college," Dean said in a tone that left Bobby wondering if he was trying to convince himself or the elder hunter.

"You could, Dean," Bobby encouraged.

"Look at this," Dean said and pointed to something on the page. Bobby caught sight of the words tuition costs at the top of the page. "It costs over 34,000 for one year, plus, another 10,000 for room and board, and that doesn't even include books or other living expenses. It would be close to 200,000 for four years, not counting grad school."

"Don't let that deter you, Dean. There's scholarships and financial aid and student loans. If this is what you want, go after it," Bobby said firmly.

"Okay, let's pretend for a minute that I get in and somehow find a way to pay, can I do it with one arm?" Dean asked.

"We don't know that it's permanent, son," Bobby said gently. "Even if it was, since the day I met you, you've never let anything stand in the way of what you want. If you want to do this, we'll find a way to make it happen, Dean. I promise."

"It doesn't matter anyway," Dean said, abruptly changing the subject and cursing himself for bring up his arm.

"If money is the only thing holding you back, kiddo, you have the option of applying to a state school. They're not as expensive and if you applied to USD, you could live here with me," Bobby said letting him change the subject. It was rare that Dean opened up this much to anyone and he didn't want him clamming up.

"Thanks Bobby, but Dad..." Dean stopped abruptly. "I want to hunt like dad," he insisted.

Bobby frowned. "Dean, I know you love your father and your brother, but you deserve to live your life the way you want. Just remember that."

"He won't let me," Dean suddenly snapped in frustration.

"Why do you say that, Dean?" Bobby asked knowing immediately who Dean was talking about.

"Mr. Jeter said that he told dad that I could get into MIT. How come he never told me? He won't let me go, Bobby. I'd better get home, dad's probably furious and I have to take my meds," Dean said and tried to bolt. Bobby stepped in front of him.

"Dean..."

"Forget it, never mind. It's a stupid idea anyway. I'd never get in, and I couldn't afford it if I did. It's not something I really want anyway," Dean said frantically. He'd said too much.

Bobby could see how upset Dean was getting so he decided that he needed to back off. "If you need to talk, Dean, don't forget you can tell me anything," Bobby offered.

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean said sincerely.

"You need a ride home?" Bobby asked.

"Sure," Dean replied. They went out to Bobby's truck and made their way toward the Winchester home. "How mad is he?" Dean asked timidly.

"You need to talk to him, Dean. You need to tell him how you're feeling, about everything, and that includes school. He cares about you and he truly wants to help. You have to meet him half way," Bobby cautioned.

"I'll try," Dean said non-committally. "It was nice knowing you," he replied when Bobby pulled up in front of his house.

"Remember what I said, Dean," Bobby said to Dean's back as he watched the young man enter the house.

--

_**"JONATHAN DEAN WINCHESTER, JR!" **_was the first thing Dean heard when he walked into the house.

"Dad, I..." Dean started only to be cut off by his father.

"Of all the stupid, dumbass, idiotic..." John started and stopped abruptly when he looked up at his son. His face showed no outward sign of what he was thinking or feeling, but his eyes betrayed them as they did every time. John knew that his son's mood was bordering on depression. At that moment, he seriously considered sending Dean to the counsellor Dr. Jensen had recommended. "Here, take this," John said as he handed his son a sandwich and a glass of milk. "Make sure you eat that and then I want you to go to your room and don't come out until I say," John said tensely.

Dean choked down the sandwich. It tasted like rubber and he had to work to make sure it didn't come back up.

When he was done, Dean went to his room and resisted the urge to slam the door. He was back to being angry. He was angry at everything and everyone. He was angry at developing diabetes in the first place. If he hadn't, then they wouldn't have stopped hunting, and he wouldn't have been here. He wouldn't have had to go to a stupid fancy prep school. He wouldn't have gotten shot and his arm wouldn't be hanging useless by his side.

His anger extended to his teachers for giving him special treatment. He was angry at Bobby for encouraging something that could never be. A significant amount was directed at his father for also giving him special treatment. He couldn't even give him a well deserved reaming because he felt sorry for him. He was mad that his father hadn't told him about MIT. Most of all, he was made at himself for caring about it all.

His eyes landed on the top drawer of his dresser. There was something he could do to change things.

--

An hour later, John called his son. He knew that Dean needed to eat and he really needed to talk to his son. He looked up as Dean walked into the kitchen and John did a double take as he saw the amulet hanging around Dean's neck.

TBC

Please remember to read and review. I want to know your thoughts. I know that James would never have been able to release the information he did to Dean, so I took a little creative license with John's idea.


	28. Chapter 28

Thanks to Soar for the beta and to Soar, JuliaAurelia and Sinead-Conlan for all their help on this chapter.

Chapter 28

Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

"See you tomorrow," John's boss said to him as John punched out for the day.

"See you, Jim," John returned the greeting and walked out of the garage. He got behind the wheel of the Impala and drove toward the junior high school to pick up his youngest son.

He pulled up to the front steps and saw Sam sitting with four other boys. They were laughing and they looked relaxed and happy, so it came as no surprise to John when Sam asked if he could go over to Randy's house. They had a science project they needed to work on. John knew it was going to be a boring afternoon for Sam, waiting around the hospital for two hours while Dean met with his therapists, so he agreed to the request. Sam happily thanked his father and informed him that Randy's mother would drive him home afterwards.

John got back into the car and drove toward the high school, wondering what state of mind his eldest was going to be in. He was surprised when he got there and Dean was nowhere to be seen. Wondering if Dean had gotten held up, he pulled into the parking lot and waited.

5 minutes went by, then 10. John's worry was increasing with each passing minute. Dean knew that he had appointments at the hospital and if he was going to be late, he should have called and left a message at the garage. He waited another five minutes and then got out of the car and headed toward the nurse's office. He was informed that Dean had picked up his injection kit as he usually did. He was headed back toward the Impala when he saw a familiar face. He had seen Dean hang out with this boy on occasion, his name was Greg or Gerry or something that began with a G.

"Excuse me," John said.

"Hi, Mr. Winchester," the boy said in a friendly tone.

"Have you seen Dean?" he asked casually, trying not to show that his panic was growing.

"He got a ride with Gray," the boy said. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," John said with a false smile. "It's fine. We must have gotten our signals crossed."

John said goodbye and started back toward the car. His worry was quickly giving way to anger as a thought entered his mind. He had a feeling that he knew where Dean was. He pulled out his cell phone when he got back to the car and called Bobby. He couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped him when the elder hunter confirmed that his wayward son was indeed at his place.

John drove home, fuming. His first instinct had been to drive over to Bobby's and drag his son home. He still had no idea how Bobby had managed to convince him to leave Dean at his place, and let him speak to Dean first.

Pulling into the driveway, John shut off the motor and rubbed his hand over his eyes, trying to stave off the headache he could feel building in his skull. He walked into the house and took a couple of aspirin, desperately wanting a beer. He knew he couldn't have one though, because he needed to be stone cold sober to deal with his son when he got home.

How to deal with him was the question that John was helpless to answer. He knew he should be furious that Dean had ditched his appointments and had worried his father sick by disappearing. He was plenty mad at that, but it was tempered with a healthy dose of worry. He felt the same as Bobby, that right now, Dean was hanging on by his finger tips and John didn't want to be the one that stepped on them, causing Dean to lose his grip. He had never felt so helpless in his life.

He sat at the table and pulled out his wallet. He thumbed through the few bills and pulled out an old photo of himself and Mary. It was a picture of the two of them standing out in front of their house, in front of the sold sign in the yard. John had his arm around his pregnant wife. He had been so happy that day.

Mary had always been the one that could get the boys through if they were sick or hurt. What would his wife do if she were here? How would Mary get Dean through this? "Help me, Mary, please," John whispered desperately to the picture.

Of course, there was no answer. John sighed and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He put the picture back into his wallet and put his wallet back into his pocket. He was suddenly regretting letting Sam go to his friend's house. His youngest could get through to his brother much better than he could.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway interrupted his thoughts. A small part of John was hoping that it was Sam, but those hopes were dashed when he looked up and saw his eldest standing in the doorway. He was on his own.

Worry often translated into anger with the eldest Winchester, and when you added in the fact that John was still angry, it wasn't surprising that the anger was what came out of John's lips and he started to berate his son, but one look into Dean's eyes stopped the anger cold. He knew he needed more time to sort things out in his head, so he made his son eat and sent him to his room.

Both Winchesters sat for an hour, John at the kitchen table, Dean on his bed, and brooded. Neither one knowing what to say to the other. John decided that he couldn't put this off anymore and he called Dean back to the kitchen. Whatever he had been about to say flew right out of his head when he saw the amulet hanging around his son's neck.

"Dean," he started. "I thought we agreed..."

"No," Dean snapped back, interrupting his father. "You ordered."

"Joh..."

"STOP!" Dean said. "You said it's my decision, and I made it," Dean said defiantly.

"What are we going to tell your doctor?"

"I don't care," Dean said firmly.

"You have to think of these things," John blurted out before he could stop himself. "We don't..."

"Okay, I get it," Dean snapped. "It's just another thing I screwed up. Could you just send me back to my room now."

Without waiting for his father to respond, Dean turned and stalked off back down the hall. John would have guessed that Bobby could have heard the door slam that followed.

John was all set to follow his son and really let him have it. He didn't tolerate insubordination. He took two steps and then stopped abruptly. _Calm down, _he told himself firmly. He took a deep breath and was about to head to Dean's room again, when he stopped once more, his mind replaying the short conversation that had just taken place. It wasn't what was said, it was what hadn't been said and the fact that Dean was still wearing his immobilizer. Had the amulet restored feeling, Dean would have done everything in his power to get the thing off.

Suddenly, John couldn't get to his son fast enough. _You're such an idiot, _he berated himself_. _

He opened the door and found Dean sitting on his bed. He had his legs drawn up to his chest, as much as the arm strapped to his chest would let him anyway, his good arm was wrapped around his legs and his head was down, resting on top of his legs. John closed the gap in about two strides and sat down on the bed next to his son. He still didn't know what to say, so for now, he decided not to say anything. He just opened his arms.

Dean felt the shift as his father sat on his bed and braced himself for the lecture he knew was coming. He was surprised when he didn't hear anything and he glanced up briefly. When he saw his father's open arms he didn't even hesitate. He launched himself into them and felt them wrap around him as tight as they could go.

"We have to talk," John said gently to his son. _Please Mary, help me find the right words. _

"Dad, about earlier, please, I'm sorry," Dean said, all but begging.

"It's okay, son. I should have noticed," John said softly as he reached up and lightly stroked his son's short spikes.

"Dad..."

"No, son. I'm sorry. I should have dealt with this when it happened. I won't even pretend to understand how you're feeling, Dean. I just want you to know that I'm here if you need to talk."

"I don't," Dean mumbled into his father's chest, he couldn't look at his father.

"If you don't want to talk to me, maybe a counsellor would help," John half suggested, half threatened.

Dean's head snapped up at that and he glared at his father. "No," he said firmly. I'm fi..."

"You're not, Dean," John insisted. "Anyone would have trouble dealing with this, and you do have to deal with it, son. You can't pretend the problem doesn't exist."

"Pretend," Dean huffed. "Who's pretending? They were gonna kick me out of shop class, dad. Did you know that? Did you know I have to ask for help on the simplest things? I can't do anything. How the hell am I pretending? It won't let me," he finished, his tone getting angrier.

This was what John had been hoping for. Dean needed to get this out. "What do you call skipping your appointments?" John asked, bating his son.

"It's a waste of time," Dean protested. "It's not gonna change anything."

"Do you know that for sure, Dean?"

"My am doesn't move," Dean yelled.

"We don't know the future," John countered.

_**"THE AMULET DIDN'T WORK!"**_ Dean protested again, confirming what John had suspected earlier.

"We don't know that yet, Dean. Bobby couldn't tell us how it would affect your injury. It may just need more time..."

"Time?" Dean said. "Time for what? How much time would it take for a spirit or bad guy to get to you and Sammy while I stand there, useless. How much time does it take me to get dressed or perform the simplest tasks? You tell me to give it time? I can't," Dean said, his tone growing frantic.

"We'll figure this out, Dean," John promised.

"I don't want to,_**" **_Dean said, his voice starting to waver. "I just want my arm back," he said softly.

John could feel Dean grow still, as if all the fight had left him, and that scared John more than anything. He once again wrapped Dean in a cocoon as tightly as he could. "I've got you, buddy," John said gently. "It's time to let it go."

Dean wanted to run. He wasn't a baby, but he couldn't help it. Everything he had buried, his feeling about his diabetes, his humiliation over being called names at school, his worry about not being able to protect his family because of his injury, his guilt over wanting to pursue his dreams, all bubbled over. Right now, he wasn't the confident hunter and protector. He was what he appeared to be, a scared teenager facing an uncertain future. His father's offer to 'let it go' was more than he could bear, and he snuggled deeper into his father's arms as the floodgates opened.

--

It was a good half hour before Dean's sobs finally abated and John felt him grow still once more. He looked down and saw that Dean was sound asleep.

No sooner had he gently extracted himself, trying not to disturb Dean, than John heard the front door bang.

"I'm home," Sam called out. "What's for dinner? I'm starving."

John looked down as he saw Dean twitch at the sound of Sam's voice. John quickly draped a sheet over Dean's sleeping form and walked out the door, softly shutting it behind him.

"Sammy," John called to his youngest son. "Keep your voice down. Dean's sleeping."

Sam was by John's side in an instant. "Is Dean okay? He's not sick again, is he?" he asked frantically.

John reached out and hugged his boy. "No, he's just exhausted. We need to let him sleep. Come on, let's order a pizza and I'll fill you in."

--

"So he still can't move his arm?" Sam asked his father.

"No," John admitted with a sigh. He decided to leave out Dean's breakdown. He knew that Dean would be embarrassed if Sam knew about it.

"How was he?"

"About the same," John said vaguely.

Which Sam didn't buy for a second. He had a feeling that he knew what had happened, but didn't say it out loud. "We'll get him through it, dad."

"I hope so," John mumbled under his breath.

"Remember when Dean found out he couldn't hunt? You did pretty good with getting him through that," Sam encouraged.

John gave a small smile and reached out and ruffled his son's hair. "Thanks, kiddo," John said. "That was easy, though. We knew it wasn't permanent."

"We still don't know that this is either, dad," Sam said refusing to give up hope. "We don't know the full extent of the amulet's power. Did it work immediately on Dean's diabetes?"

"I..." John started and stopped. He didn't know. John had forgotten all about it in his quest to try and get his eldest though his latest crisis.

"Did you even test his blood sugar?" Sam asked, as if he were reading his father's thoughts.

"No," John admitted. He looked down the hall toward the boys' room. He really didn't want to wake his son up and pricking Dean's finger when he was sound asleep was not an option either. John didn't want Dean's knife buried in his chest.

"He should be okay. Bobby said that the amulet would control his blood sugar," John said confidently. Bobby was one of a handful of people John trusted unconditionally. "Anyway let's talk about something else." John wanted to change the subject. "Your 13th is going to be here soon. Is there anything you want to do?"

Sam had almost forgotten it was coming up in his worry over his brother. He wanted to have a party with all his friends like Dean had done, but with everything that was going on, he was unsure if he should. Plus, he was feeling guilty about wanting to have a party when his brother was struggling. "Can I have a party with my friends like Dean did?" Sam asked tentatively.

"Sure, kiddo," John said with a smile. "Bobby's already started painting over that devil's trap."

"Why did he put it back?" Sam asked.

"I have no idea. Guess he wasn't thinking. He's grumbling about it already."

Sam gave a small chuckle. "Can I go start calling my friends?" Sam asked excitedly.

"Sure," John said. "Oh, Sammy," he called to his youngest's retreating back. "I know what's going through that head of yours. You don't have to feel guilty about looking forward to your birthday. Your brother wouldn't want that."

"Thanks dad," Sam said as he headed toward the phone.

--

Dean groggily came back to wakefulness. He struggled to sit up, and the events of the last few hours came rushing back to him, and Dean seriously contemplated staying in his room and never showing his face again. He was embarrassed at the way he had lost control, but the smell of pizza coming from down the hall was really making that decision difficult, especially after his stomach started growling.

He got up, opened the door and went to the bathroom. As he was splashing water on his face, his syringe box caught his eye. He quickly glanced at his watch and realized that his injection was an hour overdue. _My blood sugar must be... _Dean's thoughts stopped abruptly as he caught sight of the amulet hanging around his neck. Curiousity getting the better of him, Dean picked up his lancets and managed to awkwardly load it. _Screw it, he thought_. He put the tip against his left hand and pushed the plunger. He put some blood on a test strip and inserted it into his meter. Normal. For the first time in days, a true smile graced Dean's lips.

He grabbed his meter as he headed out to the kitchen for dinner because he knew his father was going to ask.

"Hey Dean," Sam said as his brother entered the kitchen.

"Hey Sammy," Dean said as he took his seat.

"Hungry?" John asked as he placed a slice of pizza in front of his eldest, along with a glass of milk.

"Starving," Dean confirmed as he reached for his pizza.

"Dean, did you check your..."

"Yes, dad," Dean said and held up his meter. "Normal."

John smiled. "That's great, son," he said genuinely as his eyes drifted to the arm that was still bound at Dean's side, and as much as he wanted to ignore it, he couldn't. "That being said, we still need to talk."

Dean's appetite suddenly vanished, his gaze unconsciously drifting toward his arm.

"We have to find a reason to explain why you no longer need to take an injection at school."

"I'm sor..."

"Dean, it's okay." John confirmed. "I don't like it, but I can't think of any other way, so I'm going to keep you home from school tomorrow and say that you have a doctor's appointment, then we'll get Bobby to forge a note from your doctor that explains changes in your injection schedule. You're still going to have to report to the nurse's station for blood sugar checks, and stick to your diet when you're in the cafeteria or out with friends. No exceptions, understand, Jonathan Dean?"

"Yes, sir," Dean agreed.

"Now, as much as I know this is rough for you, you're still going to be punished. You ditched two appointments, failed to tell me your whereabouts and showed poor judgement. That equals 12 days grounding."

"Yes, sir," Dean mumbled.

"For the first three days, it means no TV, phone, or friends. You're to go to school, come home and work on school work," John said firmly. He had debated this part of the punishment. He didn't want Dean isolating himself over his injury, but he knew how far behind Dean was in his school work. On day four, if you behave, I'll lift the phone restriction."

"What about TV?" Dean asked hopefully.

"Full 12," John said putting his foot down. "And you're going to therapy."

But..." Dean instantly protested.

"I know you don't think it will do any good, but your doctors think it's necessary, so you're going."

Dean knew it would be pointless to protest. He just wrapped his good arm around his bad arm. "Can I go back to my room?" he mumbled.

John was all set to refuse when he heard Sam speak.

"Dean, can you help me with my science homework?" Sam suddenly asked. "We started a physics unit and it went completely over my head."

Dean could never refuse his brother anything. "Sure, Sammy."

John smiled at his youngest.

--

The boys worked on their homework for the rest of the evening. Dean kept trying to escape, but John wouldn't let him.

He was still a little nervous about Dean not taking his meds and he wanted to keep watch for a little while longer, so he sat in the living room, flipping through the channels on their old TV set. There wasn't much on and as luck would have it, John came across an old movie called Promised a Miracle. It was about the parents of a diabetic child. In the movie, the parents were very religious and took their son to a faith healer. Convinced the faith healer had cured their son, they threw away his insulin. The boy died three days later.

When was Dean's last injection? He'd had it at school, but John knew he hadn't any since then. Was the amulet really working, or was Dean's reading at dinner time a fluke? John wanted to grab a syringe and go inject his son with it, but if the amulet was working, it could cause Dean to have another seizure. It was extremely dangerous for a non-diabetic to take insulin. But he could make Dean test his blood sugar.

Without even thinking, John went to the bathroom and grabbed his son's supplies and marched into the boys' room. He flipped the light on and thanked his lucky stars that he didn't end up with a knife in his chest. His arm may have been bound to his side, but it didn't slow Dean's reaction time by much, getting easily to the knife he kept under his pillow. Sam, knowing that he was protected by his big brother, sleepily woke up and rubbed his eyes.

"What's wrong, dad?" Sam questioned.

"Dean, give me your hand," John said not bothering to explain himself.

"What's going on?" Dean repeated Sam's concerns.

"I need to check your blood sugar," John ordered.

"But the amulet..."

"Humor me," John interrupted and once again motioned for Dean's hand.

Giving a long suffering sigh, Dean put his knife back under his pillow. He held his unbound arm up and allowed his father to stick his finger. He took a small amount of pleasure when his reading showed it was fine. "Normal, happy?" Dean said.

"Dean, attitude," John cautioned.

"Sorry," Dean mumbled.

John suddenly felt stupid. The amulet did indeed seem to be working. "Go back to sleep," he said as he turned the light out on the way out the door, as and he heard his son mumble to his brother, "Paranoid much."

--

The next morning, John called the boys. He knew that missing another day of school was the last thing Dean needed, but John couldn't think of another way to pull this off, short of taking the amulet from his son and he wouldn't do that.

Shortly after, he saw his youngest join him for breakfast.

"Where's your brother?" John asked.

"He's still in bed," Sam answered. "I thought he wasn't going to school today?"

"He's not, but he's not laying around in bed all day, either," John said. "Dean," he called again. "Move it. I want your butt out of bed and dressed before me and your brother leave, or I'm adding another day to your grounding." John turned back to Sam. "How was he last night?" John asked.

"He seemed to sleep okay. He's gonna be okay, right dad?" Sam asked.

"I wish I could promise you everything's going to work out, Sammy, but I can't," John said regretfully. "We just have to take one day at a time and as hard as it is, we have to stop treating Dean with kid gloves."

"I'll try," Sam said.

"We have to stop tap dancing around his injury. If we're ignoring it, he's going to."

"Are you sure it's wise leaving him here today?" Sam asked.

"Trust your old man, kiddo. I got a plan."

Dean appeared in the kitchen shortly afterward. John handed him a plate of scrambled eggs and toast.

"After you're done eating, Sam will help you remove your immobilizer so you can get your uniform on," John said to Dean.

"I thought..."

"You're not going to school, but you're going to pretend you are. I want you in uniform, with your school books out here at the table. You're to follow your schedule," John insisted. He knew if he left Dean to his own devices, he'd spend the whole day on his stronger subjects. He also wanted Dean in his uniform because he wanted Dean to know he was serious, plus it wasn't comfortable laying around in a suit and tie. "I want your chores done as well. You can do them in place of your auto shop class."

"How..."

"Improvise," was all the advice John gave.

--

Dean watched his father walk out the door. His anger was simmering just below the surface. He was tempted to blow off his father's instructions, but he really had nothing else to do. He was sure his father was going to check his homework when he got home and his father would just know if spent the day watching TV, of that Dean had no doubt. So he did what was told. His father hadn't banned his music and even though he wasn't allowed to, he listened to it while he worked.

The day passed steadily, and Dean looked at the clock and saw that it normally would have been time for his second last class of the day. He would have had gym, so he decided it was a good time to start his chores, as it was going to take him forever. His chores, this week, consisted of laundry and sweeping out all the rooms. He was just glad that there were no carpets as he really hated vacuuming.

He decided to start with laundry. That he could do, or so he thought. His first attempt at picking up the basket ended with him dropping it and spilling the clothes on the floor. He sighed in frustration and debated giving up. Then the stubborn Winchester pride kicked in. Dean thought for a moment. He needed all the laundry in one place to make it easier. He went to his father's room and got his basket of dirty clothes out of the closet. Remembering what had happened before, he just dragged it to his and Sam's room. He realized quickly that dragging three baskets of clothes was going to take awhile. What he needed was something to put all the clothes in.

A bag would work as it would be easier for him to carry. _Alright, one problem solved, he thought_. Now he had to figure out how to hold the bag open when he stuffed the dirty clothes inside. An idea came to him and he then went to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of garbage bags from under the sink, and some thumbtacks out of the drawer. He walked back to his room and pressed one of the garbage bags against the wall with his knee and then took one of the thumbtacks and tacked one side of the bag to the wall, leaving the other hanging open. He did the same thing with the other bag. He then sorted all the light clothes into one bag and the dark in the other.

Giving a small smile of satisfaction when he had all the clothes sorted, he pulled the thumbtacks out of the wall and put them on his night stand, and grabbed the bag of dark clothes. He walked over to the washer, set the bag on the floor, opened the lid and put the clothes in the machine. He turned it on and added the soap. Dean's smile grew when he shut the lid and headed toward the kitchen.

He returned to the kitchen and got the broom. This was going to be a bit more complicated. He tried to push it with his hand, put he found it awkward. He finally put the broom under his arm and wrapped his forearm around the handle. He found he had a little more control that way. It was slow going, but he was managing to get it done. When he was done, he grabbed the dustpan, put his foot behind it for traction and swept the dirt pile in it. Most of it missed the first time, but Dean kept at it until the kitchen was finished. He was working on the living room when he heard the washer shut off.

Dean laid the broom against the wall and went to the washing machine. He painstakingly moved the items into the dryer and went back to the bedroom and grabbed the second bag of light clothes. He put those in the washer and went back to sweeping. By the time the dryer buzzed, he had the living room swept. Knowing he needed to get the second load into the dryer, if he was going to have things done before his father got home, he decided he'd finish the living room after he got the clothes put away.

He set up his garbage bag again and got the clothes out of the dryer, then he transferred the wet laundry from the washer to the dryer, grabbed the bag of clean clothes and headed toward his bedroom.

He dumped everything out on his bed, and put all of Sam's clothes on his. He put his father's in the empty basket and dragged it back to his father's room. He congratulated himself on his garbage bag idea, as he realized it was so much easier, and his confidence took another step forward.

Then, when he looked at the clothes sitting in the basket on the floor by his father's bed, it took two steps back. How did you fold clothes one handed? How was he going to put it away? He refused to give up, though, he had come this far and he was determined to finish it.

He took the clothes out of basket and put everything on the bed. Dean went to the closet and grabbed a hanger. He took his father's shirt and laid it flat on the bed, then took the hanger and pulled the sides around it. He fumbled to get the top button done up so that it wouldn't slip off and picked up the hanger and stuck it back in the closet.

He finished the shirts and moved on to the pants. He laid them flat and folded them over, and just ran the hanger underneath and when he picked it up, they fell over the hanger. Dean's smile returned.

He was almost finished with his father's clothes when he heard the rumble of the Impala in the drive way.

--

John honestly wasn't sure what he'd find when he pulled into the driveway of the house. He was pleasantly surprised to hear the dryer going, but he did notice that the front hallway still wasn't swept.

"Dean," he called as he stepped into the house.

"In here," Dean called from down the hall. He was frantically trying to finish putting his father's clothes away. His father had told him to make sure his chores were done. He only had one room swept, and there was a dirt pile in another, and clothes were all over three beds. If anything, it looked worse than before. Great, his father was going to be so disappointed in him. The brief sense of pride and accomplishment that had been building slipped away again, as Dean looked up and saw his father standing in the bedroom doorway.

"Dad, I..."

John held his hand up. He had seen that the kitchen was done, and he had seen the dirt pile in the living room and this indicated to John that Dean had tried, and that's all he had been hoping for. He'd actually gotten more done than John had thought he would. He walked over to Dean and again pulled him into a big hug.

"I knew you could do it," John praised.

"But I..."

"You tried, Dean. That's all I wanted," he said voicing his thoughts, and making sure the pride came through. "Come on, let's get the rest of this put away," he said and picked up one of his t-shirts and started folding it, just as the dryer buzzed.

Dean showed his father his garbage bag system and once again earned his father's praise. John also felt lighter than he had in weeks when he was rewarded with one of Dean's grins, a true smile that reached his eyes.

Soon, father and son had everything put away, and John reminded Dean that it was time for his appointments.

Dean didn't say anything, he just did what his father asked and followed him out the door.

--

"Dean," John addressed his eldest when they pulled up at the hospital. "To let you know how proud of you I am, I'm taking the phone restriction off your punishment early. You've earned it."

"Thanks dad," Dean said gratefully.

Dean followed his father to the physical therapy clinic, where he spent the next 45 minutes, sitting there as the physical therapist moved his arm in a series of range of motion exercises. He got a lecture about skipping his appointment and the damage he could do to himself if he allowed his arm muscles to atrophy, so his mood wasn't the greatest when he went down the hall to meet with the occupational therapist, a woman by the name of Rose Brooks. Despite his feelings, though, Dean found her to be a really nice woman.

She started by asking him how he was doing with things. Dean surprised himself by opening up to her. Telling her how frustrating it was having to rely on others to do things he had always done for himself. She asked him how he currently did things, and Dean told her about his makeshift laundry baskets.

"Good idea," she encouraged.

"It took forever though," Dean complained.

"You'll get faster at things," Rose promised.

The session continued with Rose giving Dean some tips and tricks to help him along, and she encouraged him to have his dad and his brother join him for the next session.

Dean was actually in a good mood for once when they left the hospital. He still didn't like it, but he no longer felt so helpless.

--

Gray headed toward his locker keeping an eye out for his friend. Sam had told him that Dean had to go see his endocrinologist because he was having problems with hypos. Gray had tried to call him last night, but had been informed by Dean's father that his son was not allowed to come to the phone, as he was being punished for skipping his appointments. Gray apologized for taking Dean to Bobby's, but John told him not to worry about it. Dean had made his own decisions, and reassured the young man that Dean would be fine.

"Hey," he heard a voice greet him.

Gray looked up and saw Dean walking up to his locker. "Hey, man. How'd your appointment go?"

"It was fine," Dean said trying to give as little information as possible. "Doc changed my insulin schedule. I'm down to three injections a day." He really hated lying to Gray, as it had almost cost him Gray's friendship the first time, but there was no way around it.

"That's good," Gray said, but a part of him was sceptical. He didn't know why, but something didn't sound quite right about that. He wasn't a doctor yet, so he let it go. Dean wouldn't lie to him about something like that.

The two boys headed down the hallways towards math. After class, Mr. Jeter called Dean back once again. He had some more brochures on forensics programs that he wanted to give to Dean. Dean really wished he would leave well enough alone. He was confused enough as it is.

Dean had been dreading returning school, due to what had happened with Ben, but for once, luck was on his side. Westcott had won the high school football championship for the first time in 6 years and the whole school was pumped, and in the ensuing celebrations, Dean was quickly forgotten, for which the young hunter was grateful, so the school day passed quickly enough, as did his appointments.

John had to work late, so Gray drove Dean and Sam to the hospital. Sam had agreed to whole heartedly participate in Dean's therapy sessions and Rose was really impressed with how well the boys worked together.

--

Things went smoother for the rest of the week, but, of course, it wasn't perfect. Dean had good days and bad days, and on his bad days, he was extremely moody, going from upbeat, to angry, to depressed when he had setbacks, often in the space of one conversation. On his bad days, even Bobby found his patience growing thin with John's eldest.

Dean found out what Bobby had been talking about in regard to his amulet. His first check-up with Dr. Conlan had been tense, but luckily all that happened was Dean getting a 'good job' from the doctor for controlling his blood sugar so well. Dean had made up several fake entries for his diary.

He was grateful that the nurse accepted his "doctor's note" without questioning it, but it was extremely tough when he was out with his friends, as he sat watching them order chocolate cheesecake with their lunch and he was stuck with either no dessert, or some fruit cocktail. It had been hard when he knew breaking his diet would put him in the hospital, but it was even harder when he knew he could have it. He knew he couldn't afford to draw the attention to himself, though.

John was glad when Sam's 13th birthday rolled around as they could all use the distraction they could get. Bobby's place had once again served as the gathering place, as it was bigger than John's. The devil's trap was once again painted over.

Everyone Sam had invited had showed up. The youngest Winchester had even been a little surprised that Gray had shown up. Sam had sent him an invitation and had two reasons for doing so. One, he genuinely liked Gray and two, he knew his brother would appreciate having someone his own age to talk to.

The party went off without a hitch, with everyone, even Dean, having a good time. Like at Dean's party, there was a small family celebration afterwards. This time, John came right out and asked Gray to stay. Somehow, it didn't seem right not to.

"Thanks for everything, dad, Bobby," Sam said to them after the last guest had left. "This was the best birthday ever."

"You're welcome, kiddo," John said as he ruffled his son's hair. It was good to see him happy, but God help him, his youngest was now a teenager.

"Glad you had a good time," Bobby echoed. "Now, go sit in the living room and your daddy and I have a few more presents for you."

"But you didn't..." Sam started. He didn't finish. He just did as he was told when he saw Bobby's hand pointing toward the couch. Sam went over and took a seat next to his brother.

"I'll go first," Gray said. "Here." He handed Sam a new silver chain, similar to the one he had given Dean. "You can use it when your dad gives you your ring. In case it doesn't fit," Gray explained.

"Thanks," Sam said sincerely. He couldn't wait to see his ring to find out what his father had inscribed on it.

"My turn," Bobby said and he gave Sam a journal, similar to the one John kept.

"Here, Sammy," Dean said as he handed his brother his gift. "I swear, I bought it months ago."

Sam opened it and found himself staring at a keepsake box, identical right down to the inscription, to the one that he had given his brother. "Thanks, Dean. Great minds think alike."

John's gift didn't surprise Sam. It was a hunting knife, inscribed with his initials, identical to the one that his dad and brother carried. John hastily explained to Gray that he and the boys liked to go camping over the summer.

Both boys tried to hide grimaces. Their "camping trips" were anything but fun.

Sam did appreciate his father's gesture though, and he gave his dad a big smile and thank you, hoping it appeared genuine. He did not share the same passion for hunting that his father and brother did. He went to put his knife in his keepsake box when he realized that there was something else in the bag. He picked it up and found himself staring at a bus pass.

"Now you can get yourself to all you activities and friends' places. I don't have time to be driving you everywhere. Just make sure I know where you are at all times."

A true smile lit up Sam's face. It wasn't the pass, it was a small gift. What warmed Sam's heart was the meaning behind it. His father was letting him go somewhere by himself. It meant that his father _**trusted **_him. He hugged his dad making it look like, to Gray at least, that Sam was really excited over his knife.

After the gifts, it was time to clean up. Birthday boy or not, everyone was expected to pitch in. Sam, Dean and Gray were rough housing and fooling around a bit as they got to work. John and Bobby turned a blind eye and a deaf ear, as it was good to see the boys happy, that is until they heard a loud voice cry, "Ow! Hey Sammy, watch it."

John and Bobby ran for the living room and were about to ask what had happened, when they realized that the cry had come from Dean, who was standing there rubbing his left arm. Gray and Sam noticed it as well.

Dean flushed as he realized that everyone in the room was staring at him. He wished they'd cut it out. Sam had accidently hit him with the broom, it wasn't that big a deal.

"Dean," was all Sam said and nodded his head.

Dean looked down to see what Sam was talking about and that's when he realized that he was rubbing his left arm, where he had felt Sam smack him. _His left arm where he felt Sam smack him._

"Dad," Dean said looking to his father for guidance.

John went to his son. "Can you feel this?" he asked as he squeezed it lightly.

"Faintly," Dean said honestly, unable to keep the smile off his face.

--

John took Dean to the doctor the next day. The doctor arranged for a cat scan and confirmed to the Winchesters that the nerves in Dean's shoulder were indeed starting to heal.

"You must be a fast healer," Dr. Jensen confirmed. "I would have sworn that we were looking at months before you started making progress."

John confirmed the doctor's words that his son was a fighter, but all the time wondering. Was it natural or did the amulet hanging around Dean's neck have something to do with it?

The next day, John took Sam, Dean and Bobby out to celebrate. Dean debated asking Gray as he would have to stick to the diabetic diet if he was with them. In the end, though, they swung by his house to pick him up. Gray had been by his side throughout the whole ordeal, and Dean didn't feel right celebrating without his best friend.

It was another two weeks before Dean was allowed to remove the immobilizer, and a full month before he got back full mobility. He wanted to salt and burn the damn thing, but John wouldn't let him. He said it could come in handy and added it to the first aid kit. He still didn't know if it was the amulet or not, and the only way to find out would be to take it off, and Dean had no intention of doing that.

--

May went by smoothly, with Dean improving every day. When he finally got the immobilizer off, John came to him and told him that Caleb needed his help with a poltergeist and that he needed Dean to watch his brother. Dean wanted to go, but John did not want him missing more school.

The trip seemed to spark the hunting bug in John Winchester, because he started actively seeking out a hunt for the next weekend and he missed work on Monday.

Shortly afterward, John was called to his boss' office for missing time. His boss was sympathetic when his son was hurt or sick, but right now, there was no reason for him to be missing work.

The next week, John ended up with an official warning for missing time, when he missed three days, and didn't even call in.

Dean found more and more the household responsibilities falling on his shoulders. When Sam asked to go somewhere, Dean didn't have the heart to say no. He knew what was happening and wanted Sam to enjoy his normal life for however long it lasted, especially with the end of the school year rapidly approaching.

--

Exams came and went, both boys doing well and finally the last day of school was upon them.

There were no classes, just home room where each boy received his report card. Sam's, of course, was straight As. Dean was pleased with his own results, he had received As in math, physics, shop, gym and Latin, B's in social studies and history, and a C in English.

Afterwards, the whole school went to Westcott Hall for the closing day assembly, where Dr. Dick would give his closing remarks on the school year and awards would be handed out. Parents were invited, and when Dean arrived, he searched over in the parents section. He was disappointed, but not surprised when he didn't see his father. Dean saw Gray do the same thing. He really felt for his friend. At least Dean had Bobby in the audience, Gray had no one.

Gray shrugged it off and said he was used to it, but Dean could tell that it still hurt his friend.

--

Bobby Singer sat in the audience wanting to kill John Winchester. He had promised to be here today and he was nowhere to be found. How could he do this to his sons?

He didn't have time to let the anger fester, though, as the awards started. He couldn't have been more proud of the boys, even if they had been his own sons. Sam won a total of four academic elite awards. Two were team awards, as Westcott's junior team had placed first in both the general category and the overall school championship. The other two were individual awards, he had the highest total points of anyone on the team and he came third in the overall standings.

Sam also won 3 more academic awards for placing first in his class overall, first in his class in history, and for having won the most debates in his class.

Dean also did pretty good. He won a team academic elite award as the math team had won the overall school championship, and two academic awards for finishing first in his math and physics classes. Gray finished first in his class, and Bobby cheered just as loud for him as he did for John's boys when he received that, as well as numerous others.

The boys hung around afterward for a while, talking to friends and teachers.

Bobby took them, and Gray to lunch to celebrate and then drove Sam and Dean home. Sam sat next to his brother thinking of all the things he and his friends had planned for the summer. Plus, Charlie had told him that he was going to be teaching a couple more classes and he really hoped that Sam would be in his class next year as well. His debating teacher told Sam to think about trying out for the debate team next year, and Mr. Jeter told him that his spot on the academic team was all but guaranteed next year.

Dean's thoughts were centered on the fact that even though his father had given him the Impala, his father still seemed to make it his primary car. He looked over at his little brother and he really didn't didn't have the heart to burst Sam's bubble as he listened to his brother chat about the summer. He knew they wouldn't be here in the fall He knew that Sam saw it as well, but was ignoring it

Neither one could ignore it any longer when they pulled into the driveway and saw the for rent sign in the front window of their house.

TBC

There should be one more chapter to wrap things up after this. Please remember to make my day and leave a review on the way out.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Disclaimer: I still don't own them.

Neither one could ignore it when they finally pulled into the driveway and saw the for rent sign in the front window of their house.

Dean instantly felt the tension levels rise in his brother, as Sam slid silently out of the car.

"Dean," Bobby started.

"Don't," Dean said quietly. "Go home, okay, Bobby. I'll call you later."

"Are you sure you don't want me to come in?"

"No, Bobby. Please, just go home, okay?" Dean pleaded.

Against his better judgement, Bobby complied with Dean's request. "You better call me," he all but ordered.

Dean nodded and then turned to his brother and found him standing, staring at the sign in the window, and he knew exactly what his brother was thinking,

_No, they couldn't leave. Not now._

Dean stood beside his brother. He kind of had mixed feelings. He missed hunting and he missed the open road, and Gray had told him that he was leaving for Paris in a week, so it wasn't like he had a ton of things planned for the summer, although his friendship with George had grown, so it wasn't like he would be completely bored. He knew this wouldn't just be for the summer, though. They wouldn't be coming back. He found himself not wanting to go into that house, as he could feel the anger rolling off his brother in waves. He didn't want to be around for the conversation that was sure to happen. _Conversation, yeah that's a good one, Dean thought wryly to himself. _

"Maybe we're going hunting for the summer," Dean suggested half-heartedly.

Sam scoffed. "You don't really believe that do you?"

"Sammy..."

"Forget it," Sam snapped. "I'm going to go get changed. I'm meeting Max at his place and we're going to the movies." He was still trying to deny the obvious.

"Sammy, please don't..."

He never got to finish that thought as Sam stalked off toward the house. Dean's hand reached up and he gripped his amulet tightly, not sure what his feelings were towards it. He knew that putting on the amulet was the reason behind this and that made it his fault. One moment of weakness and he had ruined everything, but he still liked the fact that he no longer had to take needles everyday. Did that make him selfish?

Dean followed his brother into the house. He could hear his dad in the kitchen and he followed Sam to their bedroom so he too could change out of his uniform. He hated it, but he felt a little melancholy that this was likely to be the last time he would be doing so.

"Boys," he heard his dad call. "I need to see you both when you're done."

"Coming," Dean called and he looked over to his brother. "Don't start anything, Sammy, please," he said desperately, and hated the pleading tone in his voice.

"I knew you'd be on his side," Sam mumbled just loud enough for Dean to hear.

"I'm not on anyone's side, Sammy," Dean tried to explain. "I just..." _Want peace._

"I'm going to ask to stay at Bobby's. Back me up, okay Dean? Just once have the nerve to stand up to him and ask to stay with me. He can get more hunts done without us anyway, we would just be in the way."

"That's not true," Dean said, he could feel his defenses start to rise. The next little while was going to be anything but pleasant. "Dad loves us. He won't let us stay at Bobby's, you know that..."

"You know what, Dean, just forget it. It would just be nice to know I could count on my big brother," he said going right for the jugular.

"Sammy..." Dean said, a touch of hurt entering his tone as Sam's words landed home.

"I told you, it's Sam," he growled and stalked out of the room, leaving Dean standing there.

--

Dean tried to swallow his emotions as he followed Sam out of the room. He didn't want his dad to have to call him twice. Both boys made their way to the kitchen as if they were on their way to a funeral. In a way, they were. Sam knew his normal life was about to become dead and buried, and Dean knew the peace between his father and brother was about to be brutally murdered.

"Boys, I need you to have a seat, there are some things we need to discuss," John said seriously.

"I don't want to leave," Sam blurted out.

"Sam, let me speak," John insisted. "I was speaking to the landlord and gave my notice. There's no reason we can't get back on the road now. There was a mysterious house fire in Ohio that I want to check out."

"I don't want to leave," Sam repeated. "Can't I stay with Bobby?" His eyes flickered over to his brother to see if he would speak up. Dean remained silent, his gaze cast vaguely ahead.

"No, Sam," John said immediately. "I want you boys with me. I have a little surprise planned as well," he said. He knew leaving was going to be hard and he wanted to make it up to his sons, even if it was just in a small way. "The hunt is in Sandusky, Ohio. I thought after it was finished, we could go to Cedar Point for the day before we headed out on our next job, as a reward for you boys doing so well in school. Sammy, I know you've always wanted to go on a roller coaster."

"I want to stay here," Sam insisted. "I have plans already and I don't want to hunt. I can stay with Bobby. You know he would let me."

"Your place is with your brother and me. You're coming and that's the end of the discussion," John said firmly.

"Dean wants to stay with Bobby too," Sam replied. He was getting desperate.

"That true, Dean?" John inquired as he directed a glare toward his eldest.

Dean dropped his gaze so that he wouldn't have to look at his father. He didn't say anything, he couldn't. He really didn't want to deal with this.

"Dean," John said again. "Answer me."

"I, um… I want to, ah… that is..." he mumbled something so low that neither Sam nor John could hear it, yet that didn't stop each of them from interpreting it in their own favour.

'He wants to hunt', 'he wants to stay' was what both of them came back with at the same time.

"You're not staying at Bobby's. Either of you," John replied in an angry tone. "We're a family, we stick together."

"When it's convenient," Sam shot back.

John's temper instantly blew, and the vein in his forehead started throbbing. "I'm your father, Samuel Francis Winchester, and what I say goes. We are leaving at the end of the week, and if you want to spend it grounded, then keep it up."

"When are we coming back?" Sam wanted to know.

"We're not," John replied as if it should have been obvious. "I couldn't get the summer off so I gave my notice at work."

"But the academic team, my friends. I was going to try out for the debate club and there is a good chance Charlie is going to be my history teacher next year. I don't want to leave. I really like it here. Dean likes it here. Can't me and Dean stay with Bobby and still go to school there?"

"I don't work there anymore. How do you suggest I pay the tuition?" John asked pointedly.

"I could apply for a scholarship. Please dad, it's Dean's senior year," Sam pleaded.

"Even if you get a scholarship, it wouldn't cover Dean, and I'd doubt that he'd qualify, and it'll be his senior year no matter what school he's in. You'll like that, right Dean? No more uniforms."

"Can I be excused?" was all Dean said. He was a little hurt that his father didn't think he would qualify for a scholarship, even it was true. You had to have straight As. He didn't.

"No, I'm not done. As I said, we'll be leaving at the end of the week. On Sunday, I have a hunt, so Dean, you're in charge of making sure you and your brother are packed and ready to go, and that the house is cleaned, top to bottom, and any repairs made, I need my damage deposit back."

"But dad, you know that Bobby would..."

_**"SAMUEL, ENOUGH! THIS IS MY DECISION AND I HAVE MADE IT!" John thundered. **_

_**"Damn right it's enough. I'm tired of having to put my life on hold for your crusade. I'm a kid, not a soldier. I don't want to be a soldier. I didn't ask to be enlisted," **_Sam yelled back.

"This isn't about what you want, Samuel. This is about what's best for this family."

"Risking mine and Dean's life is right? Dragging us all over the country, and never letting us have friends? Never getting a chance to be normal? Tell me dad, how is that best for us?"

"Normal," John scoffed. "We can't afford to be normal, Samuel. How many people will die because you want to go to the movies?"

"That's not fair. Why is it our job to save those people? Why can't we live our lives, dad?"

"Because we know what's out there and we have to find the thing that took your mother."

"Even if we do find the thing that killed her, it won't bring her back. Do you think she would have wanted this life for us?" Sam said before he could stop himself.

Bringing Mary into the argument was a mistake. John's voice got low, deadly. He turned away. "This is not open for discussion. You will go to your room. The only time you're allowed out is for meals and to help your brother pack. From this point on, you're on full restriction."

"But..."

"You should have thought about that before you mouthed off. Now go pack."

"No."

"I said go pack. I will not discuss this anymore."

"And I said no."

"Samuel, you're really pushing it. You're not too big to turn over my knee."

_**"I HATE YOU!" Sam yelled at the top of his lungs. "I CAN'T WAIT UNTIL I CAN GET AWAY FROM YOU, AND DEAN,**__**YOU'RE JUST AS BAD AS HE IS. JUST THIS ONCE WOULD IT KILL YOU TO..." **_Sam stopped dead when he turned to where his brother was supposed to be sitting.

John looked over his son's shoulder and they were both staring at an empty kitchen.

--

He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't stand to sit there and watch the two people he loved more than anything tear each other apart, and when his mother was brought into it, it was the last straw. He silently slipped out of the kitchen and walked out of the house. He just started walking. He wasn't going to take the Impala, as he didn't want to alert his dad and brother.

He wasn't surprised when he discovered that he was taking the route to Bobby's house, but he didn't want to go there. Bobby would just drive him home and tell him to talk to his father, but damn it, he didn't want to. He changed direction and just wandered aimlessly.

The only thing Dean wanted to know was just when his life had gone to hell. One year ago, he'd had everything laid out on a nice clear path. He took care of his father and his brother. He went to school and tried to stay away from everyone and out of trouble. Why bother making friends when you were leaving. He was going to follow in his father's footsteps and become a hunter. Then everything changed.

Diabetes, the doctors said. You have to take shots, eat right, and exercise, stay in one spot.

They had stayed with Bobby. Sam and his father had stopped fighting. He had met Kelsey, and then they had started at a prep school. Dean had met Gray and for the first time in his life, he had a real friend. He had joined a school team. Not his first choice of activity, but he had done well. His grades went up in all his classes and he found that he liked getting good grades. Then he had met James in the hospital and started getting interested in forensics. There were teachers talking about college.

He compared that to the open road, saving people, hunting things, the family business. That was what he wanted. Wasn't it?

This was all his fault. They wouldn't be here if he hadn't gotten diabetes. They wouldn't have stopped hunting and lived their normal life. They wouldn't be leaving if he hadn't put the amulet on and he had known what putting it on meant. The end of all the good stuff. He had put it on because he was just so overwhelmed at the time that he couldn't think. He had just slipped it over his head. He once again cursed his weakness and wished that he could take it off, but Dean didn't think even that would help. He could hunt with diabetes but what about his arm. He didn't know if he would lose function again, and the only thing he was certain of at that point was that he couldn't live like that.

He tried to clear his mind as he continued to wander aimlessly down the road. _Had__Sam and John realized he was gone yet?_ They were probably still fighting. _What would his dad do after Sam stormed off?_ He'd get smashed. To Dean, that suddenly sounded like a very good idea. He turned left and headed downtown. He had a fake ID and some cash in his pocket.

--

"Sam, where's your brother?" John wanted to know.

"How should I know?" Sam snapped. "It's not my job to keep track of him. You're his father, it's supposed to be your job."

"Never mind, he's probably headed toward Bobby's." John called the elder mechanic and asked him to call him when Dean showed up. Bobby said that he would keep an eye out for him.

Sam got up to headed to his room, he couldn't resist one last parting shot though. "What are you going to do without Bobby, dad?"

"Samuel, I'm not going to tell you again. I suggest you get your ass in your room before I give you something to yell about."

"That's your answer for everything isn't it? Issue an order and hope it all goes away. Why don't you try being a father, like Bobby does for us? I wish he was my dad."

Sam knew in that instant he had gone too far. John's face flashed hurt for a minute before

it was quickly replaced by a dark thunder cloud. The vein started throbbing in his head once more, and his fists clenched by his side, his face turning purple as his blood pressure shot through the roof.

"Like it or not, Samuel Francis Winchester, I'm your father, and that's not going to change. You don't like the way I run this family, well that's just too damn bad," John growled. He was desperately trying to keep his hands by his side. He had never struck his children and damn it, he wasn't going to start now. With that, John turned and walked toward out of the kitchen. He needed to get himself back under control. He was so upset that he grabbed the Impala's keys, despite the fact that it was no longer his car, and walked out the front door, slamming it shut behind him.

--

Bobby had been worried about both Winchester boys when he had dropped them off and he was really berating himself for listening to Dean and leaving. He wasn't surprised when he got a call from John saying Dean had disappeared, so he kept an ear open, waiting for John's eldest to show. He really started to get worried when Dean failed to turn up though. He got up and checked the garage. No Dean. John indicated that Dean was on foot, so he waited another half hour before he made another check for Dean around his property. No Dean. _Great, just great, he thought._ He picked up the phone and called the Winchester house, but there was no answer. He called John's cell and it went straight to voice mail. Bobby grabbed his keys and headed out the front door. He had a strong feeling that he knew where John was.

Bobby's first stop was the Winchester home. John could look after himself. He quickly confirmed that Sam was okay. He found the youngest Winchester in the living room. It was a wreck, however, books, couch cushions and other things were strewn all over the place.

"Sam, what the hell happened here?" Bobby snapped.

"Dad wanted everything off the shelves. I helped," Sam snapped back.

Bobby took a deep breath and counted to 10. "Okay, you're upset. I get that, but do you really think acting like a spoiled brat is going to help your cause?"

"He's never gonna change, Bobby. Why does he always do this?"

Bobby knelt down and gathered Sam in his arms. He held tighter as Sam struggled to get out of them. "It's not fair, kiddo, I get that. I know you don't understand, and I pray you never have to find out what your dad went through, but he's your dad, son, and the only one you got. You deal with what life hands you and you move on."

"But..."

"No buts. I'm not telling you not to be mad. You have every right to be. Now where's your father?"

"Probably at some rat hole getting hammered," Sam spat out bitterly. Then a thought occurred to him. "Um, Bobby, where's Dean?"

"I don't know. I was kind of hoping you did."

"Where'd he go, Bobby?" Sam said, worry overriding his anger.

"I'm going to go look for him. You wait here. Call Gray and George, see if either of them has heard from him.

--

Gray drove down the road looking for his friend. Sam had been vague on the phone. All he knew was that Sam had said they were moving and that Dean had taken off. He remembered showing Dean a small creek that he liked to go to when he was upset, so he drove there and was relieved to see a familiar figure sitting on a rock. He pulled over and walked to sit next to his friend.

"Hey Dean. Sam called me. He's worried about you," he said softly as he approached his friend.

"He noticed I was gone? I'm surprised."

"What's going on, Dean?" Gray asked.

"Sam didn't tell you? Dad's making us move. According to Sam, that's the equivalent of committing murder," Dean said bitterly.

"Um, Dean, have you been drinking?" Gray asked. He could see at least 4 empty beer cans around Dean.

"So what? Dad does it."

"Well that may be, but not only is your dad of legal age, but he's not diabetic. Do you have any idea what alcohol can do to your blood sugar?" Gray said worriedly.

"I got it covered," Dean said and took another swig from the can he was holding. "Want one?"

"No," Gray said and pushed it away. "You're done as well," he said taking the can away from Dean and throwing it as far as he could. "You got your meter?"

"No, threw it away," Dean said with a grin.

"Come on, I'm taking you to the ER. Your sugar has to be through the roof."

"No," Dean said stubbornly. "I'm fine."

"Dean, please."

"Just take me home, okay?"

Against his better judgment, Gray did what his friend asked of him. He didn't seem to be showing signs of high blood sugar, he didn't even seem to be drunk. The other cans must have been there already he thought, although part of him doubted it.

Gray called Bobby to let him know that Dean was alright, and that he was bringing him home. He tried to get the story out of his friend, but Dean was tight lipped, refusing to discuss it.

--

Gray pulled into the driveway, walked Dean to the door, and let Bobby know that Dean had been drinking. Bobby thanked him for bringing Dean home, said that he would look after Dean and thanked Gray for his help. Gray got the distinct feeling that he was being dismissed. Something was going on that he wasn't supposed to know about.

When the door shut behind Gray and Bobby heard his car pull away, Bobby grabbed Dean's shirt in both fists. "You stupid ass. What did you do?"

"Bobby I..."

"There is no excuse for this, Jonathan Dean. You're just God damned lucky Gray listened to you and brought you here instead of hauling your keister to a hospital. You would have been in some serious crap if they stuck you with insulin. And drinking? You know you're not supposed to draw attention to yourself."

"Yeah, well, what difference does it make? We're leaving in a few days anyway," Dean said with a shrug.

"It does matter. You know better than that."

"Dean, how could you take off like that? I needed you," Sam said in an accusing tone as he walked into the living room.

"I asked you not to start something with dad, Sammy," Dean reminded his brother.

_**"SAM!" **_His younger brother yelled back at him.

Dean suddenly couldn't take it anymore and something inside him broke. "So I'm only allowed to call you Sammy when I meet with your approval? Is it like a reward for doing whatever you want, and when I do something that upsets you instead of talking about it like an adult, you resort to ignoring me, except to tell me that I'm never there for you, and telling me I can't call you Sammy because of it. Newsflash, I've been there for you since the day you were born so screw you, _**SAMMY."**_

Bobby wasn't sure how it happened, but when Dean went to storm out of the room, he brushed by Sam. Sam yelled that he should watch where he was going and pushed back. That led to a 'quit it', 'you quit it' shoving match that quickly escalated with the two boys wrestling on the floor.

"Stop it, that's enough." Bobby grabbed the two boys and tried to pull them apart. Then he tried to hold them, one in each arm. "Samuel, Jonathan Dean, you're both acting like children."

"We are children, Bobby," Sam said. "Dad needs to remember that."

"He's not even here, Sammy. Give it a rest would you. You're giving me a headache," Dean snapped back at his brother.

"Can you get headaches?" Sam shot back. "If you could have sucked it up and not put that stupid amulet on, we wouldn't be in this mess."

Bobby felt Dean stop struggling as soon as Sam's words left his mouth. He immediately thought Dean was going to retreat into himself, but he was wrong. When Bobby loosened his grip, just slightly, Dean wriggled out of it and grabbed Sam. "YOU DON'T KNOW..." Dean stopped abruptly. "I'm so sorry for ruining your perfect life," he said, matching his father's quiet, deadly tone. Bobby and Sam could tell that Dean was trying extremely hard to control his temper. "I'm sorry I'm a weak screw up. Is that what you want to hear?"

Dean let go of his brother and prepared to leave. He turned back when he got to the door of the living room and he reached up and pulled his amulet off, and then he turned back to Bobby and Sam and threw it at their feet. "I wish I'd never laid eyes on this stupid thing. Why'd you give it to me, Bobby?" He didn't wait for an answer. This time, he walked out of the living room, into his room, and slammed the door.

--

Sam silently reached down and picked up the shiny gold object and thrust it out toward Bobby.

_**"YOU KNOW WHAT? THIS IS YOUR FAULT. WHY'D YOU HAVE TO GET THAT STUPID THING ANYWAY?" **_He followed in his older brother's footsteps and stormed out of the room. Not wanting to be near his brother, Sam went to his father's room, and slammed the door leaving Bobby standing there.

--

That was when Bobby had realized that Jefferson had been right, this stupid thing had done more harm than good, and he suddenly realized why more people didn't seek this thing out. Kind of ironic that it was based on the Goddess of Harmony when it created everything but. Bobby had thought he'd been thorough in his research on the thing. He realized now that he had only done his homework on how it affected the wearer, but he had no idea how it affected those around them. Was that part of the legend? He was in debt up to his eyeballs, and his family was in pieces. Yeah, the thing worked real well, he thought bitterly.

This was his fault. He had better get started on the damage control.

--

He approached the boys' room first and just before he could knock, he heard Dean's voice telling him that he could come in.

The young hunter did not want to talk about this, but he knew it wasn't Bobby's fault. Bobby had gotten him the amulet because he wanted him get better. He remembered Bobby's words at the hospital, that Dean was like a son to him, and there was no way Dean wanted to undermine that. This wasn't Bobby's fault, it was his.

"Here," Bobby said softly as he handed Dean back his amulet.

Dean reluctantly reached out for it and put it back around his neck.

"I'm sorry, kiddo," Bobby said.

Dean looked at him in surprise. "It's not your fault. It's mine. I shouldn't have been so weak. I should..."

"JONATHAN DEAN WINCHESTER JR," Bobby said cutting him off sharply. "Stop it. You're not weak. I would have done the same thing under the circumstances."

"It was just a snap decision. I felt everything piling up on me and I couldn't take it anymore, I put it on without thinking. I knew this would happen, yet I did it anyway. How does that not make me weak?"

"It makes you human, kiddo. There's nothing wrong with wanting something for yourself, Dean," Bobby said trying to reason with John's eldest.

"But we wouldn't be in this mess if I wasn't..."

"Jonathan, I swear, if you finish that sentence, I'm putting you over my knee. I don't care how big you are. If you want to blame someone, blame me. I'm the one that gave it to you."

"I don't blame you," Dean said sincerely.

"You can't blame yourself, either. You didn't make your daddy decide to hunt. Amulet or not, you know he would have eventually hit the road. He wouldn't have stayed here forever. If this keeps you safe, then I'm glad I gave it to you."

Dean knew that Bobby was right. His dad wouldn't have stopped hunting forever. He just needed an excuse, and he had found one in the amulet.

"Can you just leave me alone?" Dean asked, getting up and walking toward the window. "I just need to think."

Bobby didn't like it, but he knew that Dean had already opened up more than he had expected, so he silently left the room. Before he could go into John's room to speak with Sam though, the front door opened and the object of his thoughts walked into the room.

Bobby thanked whatever Gods existed that John didn't appear to be drunk, although Bobby could tell that he had had a couple beers. He did, however, have a six pack in his hands and Bobby had no doubt that he intended to get hammered.

"What the hell happened in here?" he asked as he took in the living room that looked like a cyclone hit it.

"That would be hurricane Sammy," Bobby said.

"Damn it," John growled.

"Don't!" Bobby warned. "This is your fault."

"My fault? How did you arrive at that conclusion?"

"Did you talk to your children before dropping this bomb on them? They're both settled, with friends and school, you had a good job, the whole nine yards and you told me that you liked being a father to the boys."

"I am their father," John said coldly, as Sam's words flashed in his brain. Bobby had no way of knowing that he had just said the worst possible thing he could have. _Why don't you try being a father, like Bobby does for us? I wish he was my dad._

"That's not what I meant," Bobby said trying to defend himself.

"If you'd just keep your nose out of my family, we'd be fine," John said harshly. He wanted Bobby to hurt like he was hurting.

"How dare you," Bobby said. "It's my family too. Sam, Dean, they're like my own boys. You're like my bro..."

"Your son's dead. You can't have mine," John said going for the jugular.

Bobby's fist launched through the air before he even thought about it, and landed squarely on John's jaw. "_**YOU SON OF A BITCH!"**_

John landed on the ground. He had regretted his words as soon as he had said them, but it was too late to take it back.

"Look, you won't see or hear from me ever again," Bobby said and he stalked off toward the door.

Dean, who had heard the commotion, came out of his room just in time to hear Bobby's last statement. "Bobby," he called after him. _He couldn't lose Bobby._

"I'm sorry, Dean," Bobby said as he walked out the door.

"Dad," Dean said turning toward his father.

"What? You want him for your father too," John said.

Dean turned toward his father. He had no idea what his father was talking about. "No," he insisted. "You're my dad."

"Sam apparently thinks Bobby would make a better dad."

"He didn't mean it. He was just mad. You know how he gets when we move," Dean said, quick to defend his brother.

"Do you want to stay, Dean?" John asked his eldest

Dean didn't answer at first, leaving John wondering if he would.

"I don't know," Dean finally admitted.

"I have to find the thing that killed your mother," John said hoarsely.

"I know. Let's go, we have lots of work to get done."

Dean went and started tidying up the living room, as his father headed to the kitchen with his six pack.

--

John didn't make his hunt the next day. He got drunk and passed out on the couch, and was too hungover to do much.

Sam didn't even try to be quiet, he spent most of the day stomping around. When his dad yelled at him to be quiet, Sam couldn't help himself. He didn't even think before he threw his father's words back at him.

"How many people are going to die because you wanted to get drunk?" Sam shouted at his father.

John lost it. He reacted on instinct and his fists curled and launched through the air.

Dean reacted instantly. He pushed Sam out of the way just as he felt his father's blow strike him on the cheek. The force of the blow sent Dean reeling.

Dean sat on the floor, more stunned than hurt. _Had his father really just hit him_?

John sobered instantly. _Oh God, had he just struck his child. He hadn't had he?_

"Dean, I'm sorry. Oh God, I'm so sorry, baby." He reached down to try to help Dean up.

The young hunter knocked his father's hand out of his way and slowly got to his feet. He reached up and gingerly touched his cheek. Fortunately, his father's blow hadn't hit him fully, and there was no blood, but Dean guessed that he was going to have a spectacular bruise.

"You were going to hit me. You hit Dean," Sam accused and shot his father a death glare. "I could call the cops..."

"Let it go, Sammy," Dean said desperately. "Just for once in your damn life, would you let it go." Dean really couldn't take it anymore and he grabbed the Impala's keys and walked out the front door.

They didn't hear the Impala start and John and Sam guessed that Dean just needed some alone time. He often sat in the Impala when he was upset. Sam took off toward his bedroom. He refused to talk to John the rest of the day.

Dean came back in a couple hours later. John felt bad when he saw the bruise forming on his son's cheek and his guilt returned. He tried to apologize, but Dean told him that it was forgotten and those were the only words he spoke for the rest of the day.

When the boys awoke the next morning, John was gone. Dean wasn't surprised. He desperately wanted to call Bobby, but he knew the elder hunter was mad at him, so he just methodically kept himself busy so he didn't have to think. He ignored John's orders that Sam was on restriction and let him come and go as he pleased. He wanted Sam to be able to spend as much time with his friends as possible.

What saved Dean that week was Gray. He showed up every day and helped Dean get ready for the move.

Gray didn't miss the bruise on Dean's cheek, and when he questioned his friend, all Dean would say was that something had fallen on him as he was removing a box from a shelf above him. Gray had been hit by his brother more than once and he knew that Dean's injury was from a fist. Instinct was telling him that it wasn't Sam that had done it. He didn't think that Dean's father was abusive, but there was a lot about his friend that he didn't know. Dean did have a couple of strange scars that he wouldn't explain. He thought back to the research paper he had done in Health Studies last year on abused children. Dean definitely displayed some of the signs, he was moody, withdrawn and quick to blame himself when something went wrong. Had he been wrong about Dean's father all this time?

The young man knew there was a big part of Dean's life that he was missing, like how he could drink four beers and not appear drunk, or have it affect his diabetes. Dean had never been perfect in regards to eating foods he wasn't supposed to, but lately, it seemed like he indulged himself a lot more, and again, with no consequences. If he knew it wasn't impossible, he would have thought Dean was cured.

He wanted to push Dean, but he had quickly learned that pushing had the opposite effect on his friend, so he decided that he would just try to be there if Dean needed him.

--

The last night in their home was tense. Sam had returned from saying goodbye to his friends and was in a really bad mood, and the fact that his brother made him pack up his own stuff didn't help it.

Sam knew that his dad was serious, whatever wasn't packed was staying here. The problem was that they were only allowed their duffle bags and Sam knew that all the stuff he wanted to take wouldn't fit. He first got rid of any clothes that had too many holes, or were worn out, to make more room. He put his box from Dean in there first. Then in went some going away gifts his friends had given him, and a few other keepsakes, like the stuffed giraffe that Dean had won for him at the fair, and his uniform. He wanted to keep it. Sam had watched as Dean literally salted and burned his. Now his books. He really wanted to keep his Lord of the Rings series, along with The Hobbit, but no matter which way he packed things, there was one book he couldn't fit in there.

"Hey Dean," he called to his brother.

"What, Sammy?" Dean asked.

Sam grimaced. Ever since that night, Dean had refused to address him as Sam. "Can you put this in your bag, it won't fit in mine?" Sam asked as he held out his copy of The Hobbit.

"It just a book, Sammy. Why don't you just toss it?"

"Because I like it," Sam snapped. "Will it fit in your bag or not?" he huffed.

Dean's own bag was stuffed and he really didn't think he could fit anymore in. He knew how important the book was to Sammy, though. He went to the bedroom, unzipped his bag and looked through it. Like Sam, he had keepsakes and mementos in there. He didn't really want to give anything up. He had wondered if Bobby would keep some stuff for him, like the tool box that Gray had given him. They did have a bit of extra room in the back seat of the Impala, he then realized.

He took his school backpack and took out some clothes that Gray had given him. He said they were a going away present. Dean appreciated the gesture as he would be able to start his new school without wearing clothes that came from goodwill. He usually hated charity as much as his father, but he had accepted Gray's offer for what it was, they were friends and Gray cared about him. Gray may have been rich, but he knew how the real world worked.

Dean wasn't sure why he cared so much. He had no intention of making friends wherever he ended up. It hurt too damn much.

Dean also didn't want to leave without making things right with Bobby. The elder hunter meant everything to Dean. He was family and Dean had had enough of the fighting. He just couldn't leave without saying goodbye, so that led him to drive over there. The visit wasn't easy for either man and things were tense at first, neither wanting to say goodbye. Finally, their natural bond took over and they gradually relaxed until it was time for Dean to leave.

"Dean," Bobby said, his voice thick with emotion. "No matter what problems your father and I are having, I hope you know it doesn't extend to you or Sam. You boys, you're just..." he trailed off.

"Thanks Bobby," Dean said simply. "I never did say thank you."

"For what?" Bobby asked with a touch of confusion.

"The amulet. You risked your life to get me this thing, and I want you to know I do appreciate it. IloveyouBobby," Dean said, his gaze dropping to the floor as the words left his lips.

Bobby reached over and gently placed his hand under Dean's chin and turned his head so that he could see Dean's eyes. "I love you too, son," he said and swept the boy into a fierce hug.

--

The next day, John was late getting back. When he pullled his truck onto the drive, he found the Impala packed and ready to go, and the boys sitting on the porch with their friends.

"Sam, Dean," he called. "I want to be on the road in 15 minutes," he said and headed into the house to take one last look around.

"I wish you didn't have to leave, Sam," Randy said.

"Me too," added Conner.

"I tried to get dad to let me stay with Bobby, but he wouldn't," Sam said.

"We'll still see each other. I mean, your dad will be coming back to visit your uncle, right?" Max asked.

Sam wasn't sure about that one. His father and Bobby were still mad at each other. They were barely civil, let alone speaking to each other. "I'm not sure when though," Sam said non-committally.

--

John had just finished taking a quick look through the rooms. Dean had done a thorough job though, and everything was packed or tidied up, and all repairs had been made. He knew he could count on Dean. He startled when he heard a noise behind him and he saw Bobby standing there.

"Look Bobby, about last week. I was, uh, out of line."

"You were way more than that," Bobby said coldly. He was still angry. It was true that words cut a lot deeper than a physical blow.

"I know. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Upset me?" Bobby scoffed. "You accused me of trying to use your sons to replace mine. That was cruel, even for you, Winchester."

"I'm sorry," John suddenly blurted out. "I know that. When Sam said he wanted you for a father, it hurt. I wanted..."

"I know why you said it," Bobby cut him off. "It still doesn't change the fact that you said it. Look, I don't want to argue. I will accept your apology, just not right now. I can't," Bobby said truthfully.

"I know," John said softly. "I just... "

"Look, Johnny, I will say this and I don't care if you accuse me of meddling or not. You and the boys are the closest thing I have to family and if you ever lay a hand on one of them again, I don't care what the reason is, I will call the cops myself."

"You have my word on that," John said sincerely. Not a day went by that he didn't beat himself up over the incident.

"See to it. I hope you know you're still welcome at my place anytime," Bobby offered.

John once again thanked his lucky stars that Caleb had sent him to Bobby. "I'll be in touch," he said.

--

John walked out the door and called his boys, telling them that they had to get going.

Dean turned back to where he had been talking with Gray.

"I'm going to miss you, man. School's just not going to be the same without you," Gray said affectionately.

"Me too," Dean said, his tone matching Gray's. "At least you have Ben to keep you company," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Gray chuckled. "I wish. He's not coming back next year. He's going to boarding school. Apparently, Judge Atwood found out he's going to be a grandfather."

"Seriously?" Dean said. He felt bad for Kelsey, but Ben deserved everything he got.

"Dean, come on," he heard his father say.

"Coming," he called over his shoulder. "I guess this is it," he said turning back to his friend.

"Yeah, I hate saying goodbye," Gray admitted.

_Why does it seem that's all I ever say?_ "Me too. What if we just say, 'see ya later'," Dean said hoping it was true.

"See ya later," Gray replied thinking the same thing.

"See ya later," Dean repeated and held out his hand.

Gray shook it and then pulled Dean into a big bear hug, which Dean returned wholeheartedly.

"Why do you have to take that away from him?" Sam said accusingly to his father.

"Don't start," his father snapped back.

Dean and Gray separated separated and Dean walked over to his car. "You coming with me, Sammy?"

Sam didn't want to ride with either one, but he wanted to ride with his father less. As he started walking over to the Impala, he felt himself swept into a hug from Gray as well.

"Take care of yourself and cut your brother some slack would you? He's the only one you got."

"Thanks Gray," Sam said. "I guess this is goodbye."

"Take care…" Gray said and paused. "Sammy."

"You too," he said with a grin. Somehow, he didn't mind it coming from Gray.

When Gray was done, Bobby walked over and hugged Sam, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately, then he walked over to Dean. Both Sam and Gray were a little surprised when they didn't do much more than hug, but Dean and Bobby had already said their goodbyes the other night. When Bobby left Dean's side, Sam walked over and got in the front seat of the Impala next to his brother. He looked over and saw that Dean's eyes were glistening. He watched as Dean reached over and pulled his sunglasses out of the glove compartment, despite the fact that it was overcast.

Gray stood next to Bobby and watched the truck and the Impala pull out of the driveway and drive down the road. He didn't try to stop the tears that escaped. He noticed that the elder man looked a little misty eyed as well.

Bobby reached over and draped his arm over the young man's shoulders. "It's okay, son. It may be a while, but I have no doubt you'll see them again."

Gray looked over at the elder man and smiled at him. He had a feeling he was right.

The end.

Please read and review. I live for reviews.

A/N: Thanks to all who followed this story, and read or reviewed. An extra thank you to Soar for her beta work, Sinead-Conlan for answering all my medical questions, and JuliaAurelia for all her feedback on the chapters. I do have a sequel to this story planned for all those who are interested.

It's going to be called Camp Sunshine and here is the summary: Sam convinces Dean to take a job at Camp Sunshine, a summer camp for children with diabetes. While trying to take care of the spirit that is causing accidents and hurting campers, Dean has to deal with a familiar problem, and runs into an old friend.


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